Esme's Lullaby
by edwardplusbella620
Summary: This the story of Esme Ann Platt Evanson Cullen who meets Carlisle unexpectidly and falls hopelessly in love. Mostly Esme's POV and takes place in different places in the United States and possibly parts of Europe.
1. Chapter 1: The Doctor

Chapter One: The Doctor

In the far distance I could see two men and the sheriff walking this way. I knew what they were doing; they were planning to saw down my favorite oak tree in the whole county! There was no point in sawing it down, only that my Father, Mr. John L. Platt, was the most powerful banker in town and often got what he wanted. He saw the tree as a nuisance, a piece of nature that blocked the view from our house. It didn't block any view! And even if it did, it is not like there was that great of a view from our window anyway—just the green countryside and a dirt road five minutes from a small town in Columbus, Ohio. Why couldn't my father see that a tree that was over 200 years old needed to continue growing, it was one of God's creations. My father is a Christian; so I thought he would understand my reasoning, but I guess not.

The men grew larger as they came closer and I still didn't have any idea as what to do. I just stood there, a petite sixteen-year-old girl, whose voice was never heard, or respected, for that matter. I braced myself as they neared me; one man held a large saw and his clothes consisted of a threadbare lumberjack shirt and tan, worn pants held up by black suspenders. His face all grimy with dirt and sweat from a previous tree cutting, I assumed. The other man next to him dressed much like him, only he was heavier and had a dark, bushy beard that hid his chin—he could have been Santa Clause once his hair turned white. The sheriff was the first to approach me; he was a mean, old man who stuck to drinking in the bar at night. Though no one would admit to that, people liked feeling safe in this small town in Columbus. The wind blew my curled, caramel-colored hair in my face, but I brushed it aside, ready for the argument.

"Listen, Ms. Platt. I've told you before and I'll tell you again, your father wishes for this tree to be cut down, no argument." The sheriff informed me. I didn't move.

"But, it's a tree, that's lived here for so long, sir, I don't know how you can let one old man's opinion own you," I fought back with anxiety in my voice.

"Ms. Platt, I won't argue with you anymore," The sheriff finished and nodded towards the lumberjacks to proceed.

Begging and pleading with him would not help so I thought fast. I climbed up the tree as fast as I could; branches tearing my nice dress (which I could care less about), and leaves falling out of place as I hustled higher and higher into it's deepening brush.

"Ms. Platt, get down from there!" I heard the sheriff yell, but I ignored him, glancing around the tree for a good, strong branch to hold a 120-pound 16-year-old.

'Ah!" I observed a high branch that was thick and easy to get too. I slowly climbed up to the branch and noticed something blue at the edge of the tree. I moved quickly, but cautiously, not wanting to fall.

As I neared the edge of the branch, I squinted my eyes to get a better picture of the little, blue shape up ahead. Then it clicked: it was a blue bird's nest, one simple egg that was standing upright, towering over all the others. I climbed closer and closer till I had to put one leg on each side of the branch and crawl my way to the nest. The mother was gone and that was a good sign. The eggs would soon hatch. If I couldn't save the tree I could definitely save the eggs and the nest.

"Esme Ann Platt! Get down here right now, young lady!" My mother screamed up at me. Her voice was not the kindest sound in the world and her personality wasn't any better.

I hesitated. My mother would never allow such a thing like a nest in the house, especially with soon to be baby birds. Samantha Marie Platt was a proper woman of the 20th century striving to follow the British ways more than our own here in America. Not that I minded the British ways—just as I long as I didn't have to follow them. But mother insisted day after day, tea, tea, and more tea. Then dance lessons, then French lessons, and then sewing lessons. It never ended. I yearned to be free and go out and explore the world. Marry for a love that lasts forever, have children, be a teacher, and live a happy and long life. I strived for adventure and real love, not tea and French lessons.

I carefully picked up the nest in my small hands and examined the eggs more closely. Yep, definitely blue birds. I couldn't wait to see them hatch. There were six total, blue and beautiful, but I didn't dare touch them in the fear of breaking them.

"Esme, are you coming yet?" My father's deep voice rang throughout me and I felt an uncomfortable shiver travel up my spine. Why couldn't he see the beauty of the world like I did? Instead, he insisted on chopping every tree down that he felt was unnecessary or a pest. I realized that I would not win this bet and that the tree would eventually be cut down. I couldn't fight for it's life forever, but I could fight for the eggs.

"I'm coming," I replied rather dully. Holding the nest lightly in my left hand I used my right one to push me backwards to the middle of the tree. I felt something slippery and then it all happened so fast.

"Oh no!" I gasped, as the nest slipped from my small hand, I fell through the air with no one ready to catch me, only the ground to break my fall. I reached for anything to hold onto, but all I could grasp was thin air. I let out a short scream as I fell multiple feet from the branch. The last thing I heard was a snap in my right leg and yelp of pain come from deep within my throat, and then my world went black.

There was a cool, icy touch to my forehead and I could hear faint murmurs in the background. I shook my head back and forth praying for the dizziness to go away. The cool touch didn't leave my forehead, even as I raised my right hand up to slap it away. There was a sudden, piercing pain that shot through my whole body then collected in my right leg and I shot up in a….hospital bed? Had I really hurt myself that bad to be taken to old and hairy Dr. Linden.

"Oh!" I grasped it, but the pain amplified. I squeezed my eyes and then opened them to deep eyes penetrating mine.

"Lie back down, Ms. Platt, I know it hurts, but the pain will cease," A musical voice ordered calmly as I felt his hand on my shoulder as his other supported my head, laying me back down slowly.

I gazed at the young man who was speaking to me. His skin was whiter than white and his eyes, such a soft, golden color. His hair was a deep shade of blonde and his breath was the sweetest scent I've ever smelt before. His features were angelic, peaceful, and beautiful. He was extremely handsome and young too, maybe 20 or so. I forgot how to breathe for a moment. All I could do was gaze at the man who was…my doctor? What happened to my regular doctor? Not that I minded he wasn't here, this Doctor seemed much nicer and was a heck of a lot handsomer than Dr. Linden ever could—and would—be. I was so enamored by the doctor that sat beside me that I had forgotten about the pain in my leg—almost.

"Hello, I'm Dr, Carlisle Cullen. I think that we'll become good friends Ms. Platt so I insist you call me by my first name, Carlisle," Dr. Cullen greeted me warmly and flashed a twinkling smile at me. "Dr. Linden is on vacation for a week now, so I will be your doctor until you heal." I felt surprised. My parents never thought it proper for a young, polite girl to call anyone by their first names, and everyone knew me as Ms. Platt, the outspoken, adventurous teenager of the well-respected, stuck-up Mr. and Mrs. Platt.

I tried to sit up again so that I could face him better. He place his hand on the small of my back and helped me up, my heart took a slight skip as he did this.

"Hello, Carlisle," I pronounced his first name carefully. "Please call me Esme." I tried to smile politely, but it seemed awkward and I knew it didn't come out as beautiful as his.

"Esme. Now that's a really beautiful name that matches the person," Carlisle complimented. "How are you feeling?"

"Um…well." It took me a moment to get my jumbled thoughts together. "My head hurts a bit and my leg is…fine." I lied. Could you please tell me what happened?" My leg hurt terribly, but I wanted to be brave.

"Well, as I hear it, you broke your leg from falling about a hundred feet, I don't know the specifics of it yet. And your head hurts because you must have hit it somehow," Dr. Cullen looked at me calmly. I must have looked frightened to him, but it was more of an admiration feeling. Sometimes the looks I gave were confusing. "But you'll be fine, Esme, in no time at all, a week or so." He reassured me with a smile that made my heart flutter. I didn't mind staying a week or so. I could stay for forever in this hospital bed.

"Now, I'll be right back, Esme," Dr. Cullen stood up from his seat and left the room.

I sighed. How lucky was I to finally have a new doctor, and for a week! Especially one that is handsome, kind, and charming; all of his female co-workers must faint dead away every time they see him. My leg still stung, but the pain seemed to lessen when he was around. I was so focused on him that I almost forgot about the two sharp bones that seemed to be poking at my muscle.

"All right Esme, miss me much?" He teased. Yes, I thought. He set down a bag of ice on the table at the end of the bed.

"What's the ice for?" I asked.

"Oh, just to make the pain not as acute. It helps numb the leg."

"Oh, so it will hurt." It sounded like more a statement than a clarification.

"Yes, but not for very long. What I have to do first is feel for the amount of damage in your leg."

Carlisle went over to the other side of my bed and gently placed his cool hand on my shin, feeling the split bone. I winced.

"Does that hurt?" He asked, it sounded like more of a concern than a doctor just asking a medical question.

"Not too bad," I lied.

"You're a brave girl, many people wouldn't have been able to take the pain," Carlisle said smoothly. His voice was one of the most sweetest sounds I've ever heard—as smooth as silk. He felt the torn bone once more. I tried not to show the pain on my face, but I failed in that.

"That hurts, doesn't it?" He asked. I nodded, not breathing. "You know, Esme, for me to be able to understand the break a little better, it helps for me to know how it was broken in the first place, from the actual person."

"Are you sure it will effect your diagnosis much?" I asked, not wanting to tell him how I foolishly broke my leg. He might not think it proper for a young girl to be so rebellious or passionate. He might think her unsuitable. I couldn't bear the thought of that, Carlisle thinking me improper. I looked down at my stomach, replaying the question in my head.

"It can," Was his brief, but honest reply. I continued to look down, avoiding his eyes.

"Esme," I felt his hand on my chin as he gently lifted it up to read my face. Our eyes met sending a shiver down my spine. I couldn't break the stare; it mesmerized me. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. Okay?" I nodded sadly. Why couldn't I tell him? He seems to be the kind of man that would understand and agree with me. Why didn't I have the nerve to tell him?

He understood though, me not wanting to answer now. How much more amazing can this man possibly get? And it wasn't just his looks that made him beautiful; it was his compassion, his kindness. My parents were never like this, they ignored me, and he didn't. He was my doctor of course, but a doctor, never would have a non-business relationship with a patient. It was always strictly business, no other conversation. Just a "hello" and "how did you do this?" and a "goodbye". The questions were always demanding, but Carlisle was patient, although he had other patients to go see, and that was what was so wonderful. He cared about the patient, rather than the amount of money he would get in return. I must be in love, I thought, but my thoughts were soon interrupted.

"Now, what I'm going to do is feel for the bone a bit more, to see exactly what amount of damage has been done to it." Carlisle informed me. "Then I will set it probably tomorrow. I nodded, still captivated by his eyes, they seemed to pull me in. I wondered if he was married or was in a relationship with someone. I assumed he was, who wouldn't want to be his girl? He was perfect.

Carlisle's hands pressed up and down my shin, feeling the split bone. I winced, but didn't mutter a sound. I didn't want him to think of me as a weak, immature 16-year-old.

"Okay, I'm thinking of snapping it back into place. This will hurt," He warned. I liked how he told the truth; most doctors would often say something along the lines of, "this won't hurt a bit".

I heard an instant, snapping sound and my fractured bone fit back together. His cool hands went from strong to relaxed all in one moment. A deep pain shot through my body and I jumped a bit. "Ouch!" I yelped, keeping my cry as quiet as possible, shutting my eyes.

"Your brave, Esme," Carlisle praised me. His smile reached his eyes this time as he glanced up at me. He felt my sweaty forehead, trying to calm me, although I liked to think it was romantic. "Would you like some ice on your leg, while I prepare the splint for tomorrow?"

"Yes please." He didn't bother telling me the ice was cold—it was obvious.

"So tell me about yourself, Esme." Carlisle said as prepared the splint. "What do you do during your day?"

I was glad he asked, it would have been awkward, just staring at him in silence the whole time.

"Well, in the morning I get up for breakfast, after breakfast I have my French lesson, then I have my dance lesson. After my dance lesson is over I have lunch with my parents and afternoon tea follows shortly after. Afternoon tea is followed by a sewing lesson, a violin lesson. At the end of the day I have dinner with my parents." I finished sweetly, hoping not to dull him with my babbling.

He didn't respond right away. I looked up to see if he was too busy to respond or had just plain ignored me. I found him quite otherwise; he was staring at me in surprise, pausing at his work. I tilted my head slightly in confusion. "What?"

"Do you enjoy any of those…activities?" I could hear him search for a word to fit my daily routine.

"Well, violin's okay, but my mother is very old-fashioned. She likes things done the British way, so I don't get a chance to do what I would prefer. She wishes for me to be a proper and beautiful young lady someday, but I'm far from that. I am in every way what she considers to be, well, improper," I confessed easily; Carlisle was a good listener. He really made eye contact and you knew he really cared about what you were saying. That's how I felt at least.

"But, what do you do for fun?" Carlisle wore a puzzled expression, as though he's never heard of a mother who wished for her daughter to be brought up by the book. "What do you do for you?" He shifted his body on the chair to face me completely, his elbows on his knees, and his perfectly flawless hands folded under his chin. He looked like a model. I wondered if he had ever gotten any offers?

"Paint!" I blurted out just as he finished his question. I blushed, embarrassed. His mouth curved up in a striking grin. "I love to paint," I repeated, more reserved. I wished to go on, but I feared I had said too much. I wonder if he thought I was crazy? A 16-year-old who loves to paint? Most girls my age were looking for a suitor, not climbing trees—let alone painting.

"Really?" He sounded surprised, but in a good way, like he was pleased with my answer. His eyes looked deep into mine, I knew that there was nothing romantic about the gaze—at least I thought so—but it was still a nice dream to have all the same. "What do like about painting?" He asked curiously.

"It gives me time to think on my own, to not have someone else think for me, to express myself in ways I could never imagine," My face tilted slightly and I felt my eyes shift upward, thinking of all the reasons why I enjoyed painting so much. "A picture's worth a thousand words they say," I added enthusiastically. Carlisle chuckled. It was the first time I had a heard such a flawless sound. I committed it to memory so I was sure to never forget it. I hoped to hear it again before I left.

"I would really like to see one of your paintings sometime."

I beamed at him, "Really?"

"Sure, one of my favorite places in this small town is that big oak tree, about five minutes away, just off of a dirt road. I've always hoped of getting someone to paint it for me. I would really love it if you did."

My smile automatically turned to a frown.

"If you are looking at it from the house that's nearby, you can see how it blends in beautifully with the hills in the background and that gorgeous blue sky. Have you ever seen that tree, Esme?" His golden gaze snapped back to mine. I think he noticed the sudden change in my expression, but he didn't ask about it.

"No," I replied calmly. "I haven't. It sounds beautiful though." I tried to sound more enthusiastic.

"It is, it is," He repeated slowly.

Silence followed for a couple moments as we sat in deep thought. Carlisle loved the same tree I did. He didn't think it was a nuisance. I'm going to paint it from memory for him, I vowed, and give it to him the next time I see him. I was determined, and I would follow through with my promise I had made to myself and secretly to him, and I would not break it.

"Well," Carlisle shifted his body so that he was facing his work again, "I better get back to preparing the splint so that your leg can heal that much faster, and you can get out of this uncomfortable hospital bed."

I didn't say anything. I tried to go back to thinking about the pain in my leg, instead of focusing so much on a man that I would never be with. It almost seemed pointless sometimes, to dream of something that you knew would never come true.


	2. Chapter 2: Conversation

Chapter Two: Conversation

After Carlisle had finished most of the cast for my leg, he bid me goodnight. I didn't want him to, but I looked at the clock on the wall to the right of me, and it was getting late—about ten or so. He had stayed for a while now. It surprised me. Every so often he would leave to go care after other patients, but he'd come back a little while later to talk with me during his free time. Did doctors talk to their patients about their lives back home other than the reason they were here? I don't know, but it didn't really matter to me. It's nice having someone to talk to.  
Oh Esme quick thinking about him, I scolded. I'll think about something else instead, I decided, but everything I thought about was tied to him. I thought about the flowers in the garden outside of my house; the smell was just as sweet as him. If I thought about trees or painting, the thought of him would definitely come to mind. It was hopeless. I lay in the dark for a few minutes, and then I couldn't take it anymore. I reached for the lamp switch on the side desk next to me and tried to turn it on, but it was too far to reach and I couldn't move. Oh great, just great! I grumbled. I didn't much like the dark and it caused me to think of Carlisle more, which is the one thing that I should refrain from doing. Ah, forget it. It's not going to work. No matter what I do, Carlisle will always come to my mind, so I might as well not try and erase him from it.     
I said my prayers quietly and I laid my head back down on my pillow and pulled the covers up—laying on my right side—and then I closed my eyes. I heard the doorknob twist slightly and, even though I had my eyes closed, I could tell that someone had opened it because of the light peaking around. I pretended to sleep, and then hopefully, whoever it was, would leave.     
I heard footsteps move quietly to the right side of the room and I opened my eyes cautiously and slowly. The figure's back was turned towards me. He was wearing what seemed to be a doctor's coat. I scanned him for any more clues as to who he was, but my inspection was cut short, as he gradually turned around. I shut my eyes quickly and pretended to be asleep.    
I could hear him pull out a chair and I was hoping that the mysterious figure that had walked in my room was Carlisle. I tried my best to make it look like I was sleeping; inhaling and exhaling slowly and regularly as much as possible. It was hard to fake-sleep. I wondered how I looked when I slept, fake or not, I hoped I looked pretty. I had read too many books about men who say they watch their wives sleep, and how beautiful they look. I wonder how they achieved that when they are unconscious and unaware.     
I was nervous. Why was this man in my room at night? What did he want? If it was Carlisle—which I highly doubted it was because he is a polite, sweet, and compassionate gentleman who wouldn't come into your room at night and watch you sleep—then that was okay because he was the only person that I had ever cared for and trusted. I loved him….a lot, maybe even too much. Ahh, I loved him! How odd that sounded. Most girls my age were charmed with guys their age.     
But if it was someone else in the room, well then, I was dead scared. I tried slowing my heartbeat. It was beating so loud, I swore I could hear it, and no doubt the man who was watching me could as well. I could sense his eyes on me and it scared me. No matter who was watching me, I could never get my question answered. Why was this person watching me? I'm not that interesting.  
I was awoken the next morning by the sunlight creeping in through the blinds of the windows behind me. I rubbed my eyes and sat up slowly—I still hadn't gained all my strength back yet, and the broken leg wasn't helping.    
"Good morning, Esme," I heard a pure voice quietly say from the doorway. I shot my eyes to the end of the room. There he was, the man who I longed to see, smiling beautifully sending my heart into a rush. He stands tall, but relaxed and his hands are in his outdoor coat's pockets. His eyes are a topaz color today, which I find weird, but gorgeous, and his skin looks as smooth as always. He walks forward; his walk is so fluid, it looks like he's dancing his way in.  
I smile. "Good morning, Carlisle," My heart skipped a beat as I say his name thoroughly. "Did you just get in?" He stood up next to my bedside smiling down at me.  
"Thank you Esme, and yes, I just got in. How did you sleep?" He asked, setting his bag down on the floor. He pulled out a chair and sat down next to me.  
"I slept okay. How about you?" I asked politely, folding my hands on my lap.  
"Well, I never sleep well, but I had a good night," My personal angel replied optimistically. "How's your leg?" His voice sounded serious again, more professional.  
"It's okay," I lied. I don't think he believed me. He placed his cool hand on my bruised leg gently. I winced. He eyed my facial expression with raised eyebrows.  
"All right, so it does hurt, but it's not so bad," I mumbled, looking down sheepishly. I hoped he didn't think me a fool.  
He nodded, his lips pursed together in a straight line. He almost looked apologetic, like he felt bad that I was in pain. Maybe…hopefully, he didn't think me a fool after all. But then again, my mind can believe such bizarre things.  
"I'll get you some ice." He stood up. "I plan on putting a splint your leg today, after your parents come in," He was halfway out the door.  
"My parents," I grimaced.  
Carlisle turned back around to face me. A look of confusion flashed upon his face before he spoke. "You don't cry when I set your leg, but you wince at the thought that your parents are visiting?" He questioned me.  
"Well, my parents aren't very pleased with my injury," I tried to give him as little information as possible.    
"Well no one is pleased with a broken leg. They probably don't like to see you in pain," Carlisle said, but I knew he was giving me a hint as to not give such a brief reply.  
I sighed, frustrated. "They aren't rather pleased with how I got this injury." I admitted. Why did he have to be so easy to talk to? Now he's going to want to know how I broke my leg.  
Carlisle took a few steps closer to the end of the bed. "Oh, well, if I were them I wouldn't dwell on the past too much. I would focus on your healing, not the negativity of the whole incident."     
He had a point, but I couldn't convince a part of myself that the reason for climbing that tree wasn't foolish. I nodded my head and looked down at my hands, just playing with them. Carlisle didn't say anymore. He stood at the end of my bed with his palms resting on the metal bar that was part of the bed frame.  
"Well," He broke the awkward, but somehow, soothing silence with a brief smile, "I'm going to go check in and get some ice for your leg." He didn't wait to see if I would respond or not this time and he walked gracefully out of the room.    
I waited in silence for his return. My head seemed to be playing the same scene over and over again: my talk with Carlisle yesterday. Oh, why can't I get him out of my head? My head was like a broken record, replaying the same song and it wouldn't turn off. But extraordinarily, it was such a good song, that every time I listened to it I felt a hint of joy, happiness in remembering the event.    
"Hello Esme." I looked up at the doorway; it was my mother.   
"Hello Mother," I said sweetly, sincerely.  
My father followed her closely. "Hello Esme," My father said gruffly.   
They looked the same as always: expensive clothes, serious, snooty expressions, and no affection shown to each other or me. I sometimes wondered if their marriage was arranged.     
We just stared at each other for seconds. I tried to convince myself that they did care about me—even in the tiny size of an apple seed—and that the silence that occurred between us was the result of their serious and quiet nature, but it was doubtful, very doubtful. I was happy to have a little voice in the back of my head that kept me thinking optimistically, making up excuses for our distant relationship, and I was grateful that Carlisle had come into my life—even if it was only for a week—or else I would have been screaming out loud by now.    
"So how've you guys been?" I attempted to get them talking.    
"We're not happy with you, Esme," My father spoke bluntly, keeping his hand in his expensive coat. I closed my eyes for the briefest amount of time (longer than a blink, but short enough that I opened them soon after). I knew what was coming.  
"Yes," I said the word quietly, vulnerably.  
"You were a foolish girl to climb that tree." My father's voice was harsh, but controlled.  
"Your actions were completely uncalled for," My mother added sharply; her arms folded.  
I looked down at my hands again. It was pointless to argue with them; it would only make them more cross with me.  
"Look at me!" My father snapped. My head shot up immediately and my eyes met his cold, black ones. "What do you have to say for yourself?"  
I hesitated, asking myself if I should say what they wanted to hear, or I should defend my actions.  
"But it's a beautiful tree, Father, that didn't need to be cut down. There was a nest in there too, with eggs…life, and you didn't even have it checked for animals. You could have ruined homes that they had built when you ordered that it be cut down, especially for no good reason." My tone grew more pained as each word flew out of my mouth.  
My father pursed his lips, his nostrils flared, and his eyes glowered down at me. "Well it looks like the nest was destroyed anyway, when you fell out of that tree. Your efforts have been for nothing. And now look at you," He threw his hand out at my leg. "Lying in a hospital bed, wasting time when you could be searching for a suitor and finishing your schooling."   
I wanted to glare back at him, but I only knew that it would make matters worse, so I stuck to looking down again. How weak I was around my father.  
"Eh hem." Someone had cleared their throat. All of our eyes flashed to the doorway where Carlisle now was; hands folded perfectly as he stood confidently. I flushed a perfect scarlet. Had he heard that whole conversation? I was ashamed; what must he be thinking of me now?  
I couldn't look him in those beautiful, golden eyes. I was so humiliated.  
"Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Platt, I would like to have a word with you." He smiled politely, but it didn't reach his eyes. Why'd he have to come in at the completely wrong time? Of course it wasn't his fault; I could never blame Carlisle for anything. Oh, but the absolute worse time to be having a conversation with my parents.  
"Yes, of course, but didn't we already talk about her condition?" My mother inquired sweetly. I could tell that she was quite taken with the Doctor. Jealously burned in my chest, but I wouldn't let it take control of me.  
"Yes, but this is about a different matter," Carlisle replied strangely.  
"Of course," My father tried to sound polite. " Goodbye Esme, see you in a week," My mother tried to sound sweet in front of Carlisle.   
I didn't reply.  
Carlisle waited for them to walk out the door and then followed after. It seemed his eyes were on me for the shortest amount of time, but I avoided them, embarrassed.   
Carlisle had come back in a few minutes later—smiling.    
"Hello Esme," He greeted me kindly, making my heart pause at his breathtaking grin. I felt it automatically lighten my mood.  
"Hello Carlisle," I beamed at him. "What are your plans for today?"   
"Well, today I will be putting a splint on your leg. Does that sound good?" He scribbled something on a piece of paper.  
I nodded, anything sounded good when Carlisle was involved.  He set down the paper and pen on a nearby table and softly pressed his fingers to my wounded leg. I flinched, not because of the pain, but because his touch was so freezing—like an iceberg.  
"Sorry," He murmured. "My hands are always cold."   
"That's all right." Carlisle lifted my leg cautiously and placed a thin wooden board underneath it as he set my leg back down onto it.  
"Will this hurt, Carlisle?"    
"The most you'll feel is a slight pinch when I wrap and tape it," He informed me; placing another board on top of my leg. "Once, it's set though, it will be stiff to walk in, but not impossible." He was wrapping a cloth around my leg now. I felt a pinch—like he had warned—as he tightened the cloth, securing the boards. He must have noticed my red face.  
"Are you okay, Esme?" He asked, pausing from his work.  
"Yes," I blushed a deeper red, holding in my breath.  
"Breath," He told me with a light chuckle. I nodded quickly and breathed out slowly.  
I sat back on my palms, watching him do his work. If he didn't look so young, I would have assumed he's been doing this for sixty plus years. His hands were tender against my bruised leg and I didn't flinch once when he was taping it. The way his hands moved across my leg, wrapping it gently, made me feel relaxed surprisingly and I could only stare at him like an idiot.  
"All done." Carlisle finished and stuck the final piece of tape on my bandaged leg, holding it together. He walked over to the head of the bed where I sat upright.  
"Thank you." I looked up into his eyes in gratitude—a mistake.  
His gleamed back at me, a deep topaz hint in his eyes made them sparkle. They drew me in. His face seemed so close to mine, so close that I could smell his sweet, honey-like breath on my face. It made my head swim and I leaned in closer so that are faces were just inches away—another mistake. He cleared his throat and abruptly pulled away, taking a few steps back.    
"Your welcome," He smiled nervously and it gave me butterflies in my stomach. He cleared his throat again. "Excuse me." And he walked quickly out of the room. I looked after him. Did I frighten him away?  
I shouldn't have done that, leaned into his face like that. But I couldn't help it. It felt like there was an electric current from me to him and his gaze was drawing me in. How could I help that? I don't know, but I had to learn, or else he'd run from me again.

The day passed quickly. Carlisle would come in and check in on me every thirty minutes or so during his breaks, or if he was passing by my room. He seemed back to normal now…calmer from our earlier and awkward…moment. Did he think about it as much as I did? I wasn't sure, but I tried not to dwell on that too much, especially when he was near. He seemed to like me at least, which was good. It was nice knowing I had a friend, someone to talk to, someone who listened, and someone who cared. I use to wake up every morning and not be excited about the day—it was always the same routine—but now, I did, cause I woke up knowing I would have a friend, a man, that would keep me company and make my life exciting and intriguing each day just by being with me.

"Esme."

"Yes?" I looked up, glad that it was Carlisle who had interrupted my thoughts.  He was carrying a present, two actually. One was larger than the other and wrapped in silver paper, the other, smaller and wrapped in purple. They were both rectangular boxes and were topped off with white ribbons.  I looked at him, dumbfounded.

"What are these for?" I smiled up at him as he handed them to me.

"You'll see," He said mysteriously with a handsome smile.

I eyed him curiously with a grin, hoping to get more information from him.

"Just open them." His eyes sparkled, even after a long day.

I obeyed and tore off the wrapping paper of the largest one. I gasped and put my hand to my mouth. It was a canvas, about the size of three pieces of writing paper connected together and a sketchpad tucked underneath it. Without a word, I tore open the other present and it revealed two paint brushes and small bottles of the primary colors. I couldn't find words to speak; so many thoughts were running through my head at one time.

"Thank you so much, Carlisle. This is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me." I said genuinely.

"Well I certainly hope not," He chuckled, but it faded as he looked up at my expression. "You mean….no one has ever gotten you a present before?" His voice sounded slightly bewildered for a moment as he realized the truth.

I shook my head.

"Not from their heart, not how you did." I don't think he knew how to respond to that or how much it meant to me that he did this for me, so he just said, "Well now, I'm even happier that I did give you a present 'cause you deserve it immensely and I know one day someone will see the wonderful qualities in you that I do everyday." He spoke so sincerely that I was breathless as he flashed me a hesitant, but lovely smile. He flicked off the lamp beside me and turned off the larger light hanging above me. "Goodnight, Esme." Then he closed the door quietly behind him.


	3. Chapter 3: The Invitation

**Chapter Three: The Invitation**

Around ten o'clock the next morning, two nurses walked into my room; one with my daily tray of breakfast, the other with a wooden—I squinted my eyes to catch a better glimpse of it—a wooden paint easel? Oh my goodness it was! The nurse set it down beside my bed and asked to see my painting materials. She had the canvas, paints, and paintbrushes set up before I had even touched my breakfast.

"Thank you," I murmured kindly to both of them, but they ignored me and left the room without a word. I was too excited to care about their rude attitudes.

I finished my breakfast in a hurry, how I yearned to paint again. The only times I found I could paint was: when both my parents were gone on my father's business trips. That way they couldn't forbid me from painting ever again and then demolish all my paintings and materials, like they had the first time.

I carefully set the tray on the small table next to me and got to painting. I picked up an old pencil beside me on the table. What should I paint? I asked myself. What should I paint? The oak tree and the hills in the distance, I answered my question. For Carlisle, I could paint it for Carlisle. Thinking of Carlisle, where is he? He usually comes in about nine, but maybe he was busy today.

It was an awfully beautiful day today; the sunlight was beaming in on my painting, making it look majestic and perfect. I promised myself that I would have the painting done by the end of the day, so I got to work. I began sketching my picture lightly, not erasing anything. I had memorized the view of the oak tree and the valley from my house window as I gazed out from my lessons, day after day. Visualizing the picture in my head, I closed my eyes and let the pencil and my mind go to work.

I had used up thirty minutes more of the morning once I had completed my sketch. I was impressed with my draft I must say, but there was still much more to be done. That's why I didn't hesitate, and I picked up the paintbrush as soon as I had examined my drawing for any flaws. I dipped the larger paintbrush lightly into the glass of water and I got to work.

How free I felt as the paintbrush worked it's magic across the canvas—how wonderful it made me feel, how happy I felt inside. The strokes that I had been brushing horizontally across the canvas had soon turned into an image, a vision, an illustration: the oak tree view.

Lunch came and went and I was still painting, but there was still no Carlisle. He must have been taking a sick day today. Even though I craved his company, it was fortunate, in a way that he hadn't come in yet. I wanted my painting to be a surprise, but if he made an appearance and saw my painting, well then, that was okay—I hadn't talked to anyone today anyways and I missed him.

"Uh excuse me, miss?" I asked as a nurse walked by my room.

"Yes?"

"Doctor Cullen's not here today and my leg hurts awfully bad. I was wondering if you could please get me some ice so the pain wouldn't be as throbbing?" I asked politely, remembering not to use his first name in public.

"Yes, I'll get it to you as soon as I can," She replied quickly and darted out of the room before I could say thank you. I gladly went back to my painting again and the day continued on…

Around late afternoon I had finished my painting to the best of my inexperienced ability and it didn't look bad. I washed and dried the paintbrushes till they were as clean as new and screwed the caps back on the paint bottles, attempting to give the nurses as little cleaning up as possible—there are only so many things a person with a broken leg can do, and I had to help out as much as I could. While waiting for my painting to dry and Carlisle (hopefully), I picked up my sketchbook and began doodling on that till supper.

The nurse had done the same as this morning, given me the tray and left without a word. Maybe she had a long and hard day, I convinced myself and that was the result of her impolite behavior.

I ate my dinner in silence, giving up on any hope that Carlisle would be coming in today. I missed his company very much, but knew I had to get use to it eventually. I had only four more days left in this hospital, and then off I would go back home to finish up my schooling and find myself a suitor.

Knock. Knock.

"Come in." Carlisle came into view. My face immediately brightened up.

"Hello, Carlisle," I greeted him. He wasn't dressed in his regular doctor apparel, but normal, everyday clothes: pants, a nice shirt, tie, and business shoes. He looked even more handsome, different.

"Hello, Esme." He walked up to my bedside. "I'm sorry I wasn't here for most of the day, how was yours?" I wanted to say that it was pretty good, other than the fact that most compassionate person in my life was missing, but other than that I kept busy. But I kept my answer simple, or tried to at least.

"It was a pretty good day, I missed talking to you though." Oh Esme! I hadn't meant for that to come out. I had a feeling that he was somewhat embarrassed, but was just really good at hiding it. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks.

"I missed our conversations too, Esme," He agreed. I was relieved. "How's your leg by the way?"

"Um, honestly, it hurts something fierce." I felt weak saying that.

"Really?" He eyed me. "Didn't one of the nurses come and check on you?"

"Well two did today, but only for my meals, and the other came in once to set up my easel," I answered.

"But they didn't get you anything?" Carlisle seemed to be stuck on that issue.

"Well, no."

"Why didn't you ask?" It was more of a worried question, than an annoyed one.

"I did." I replied uncertainly.

"And they didn't get you anything?"

"Well, no, but they were probably busy, Carlisle, and had a long day, which would explain why they didn't speak to me today either," I blurted out. Oh why can't I control my mouth? 'Think before you say things, Esme' my mother had told me over and over again. Why couldn't I remember that?

"That's not acceptable at all," Carlisle's blonde eyebrows pointed faintly downward. "They should have paid better attention." He mumbled under his breath.

"That's all right, I understand," I guaranteed him. "I lived." I spoke like it was no big deal that the nurses had completely abandoned me all day.

"Are you sure?" He asked me intently his eyes pierced mine and I focused in on them.

"Yes, just as long as you aren't gone all day again," I laughed easily. He could sound so meaningful, making sure that everything was okay with me. It made me happy, that someone cared that much.

My laugh seemed to lighten his mood and his lips turned upward into a breathtaking smile and I couldn't help, but have my face be stained with red momentarily. How easy it was for him to make me blush unintentionally.

"Would you like some ice for your leg?" He inquired.

"Yes please." He left the room and was back so soon after with a bag of ice. He carefully set it on my leg.

"Thank you," I said quietly. He just smiled and looked around the room. He must have noticed my painting on the other side of the bed.

"Is that?" His eyes lit up and it made my heart go wild.

"Yes," I smiled at him. "I was working on it today." Carlisle walked over to it in awe.

"I painted it for you," I said softly. He turned back to look at me; his eyes are now confused and, I'm sorry to say, somewhat unhappy. My shy smile curves downward.

"Oh Esme, I couldn't take this away from you. You've worked so hard on it, it's a part of you…" His sentence slowly faded.

"But in a couple days I'll have to leave and I might not ever see you again. I would like you to have a part of me, something to remember me by," I spoke sadly, but genuinely. "You said once that you would love it if I would paint it for you one day, so I did. Did I miss something?" Concern flooded my voice. Had I gone too far? Maybe he didn't want to remember me at all? Maybe I had been totally mislead? I couldn't have been though. Or maybe I looked at the signs differently? Oh, how much I wanted him to remember me. How much I wanted him to have a part of me, since he couldn't have all of me with him.

He sat down on my bed beside me; he looked hurt and I regretted having that conversation immediately. His eyes looked into mine and I could feel them burn, burn with a feeling I never knew existed.

"Carlisle?" I asked lightly. "Are you all right? Did I say something wrong?" I forced myself to speak the dreaded questions. My leg was numb now and it still hurt, but I didn't care. All I cared about at the moment was the man sitting in front of me, and I would never stop caring. He broke our staring contest first.

"No, no Esme you could never do anything wrong. Just—." I could feel him struggle for words as he looked away from me. "No one's ever done that for me before." A brave smile swept his features and then disappeared almost instantly.

"Well I certainly hope not," I mimicked playfully, but he did not smile like I thought he would. The smile faded from my face then.

"Please, take it. I wouldn't have worked on it all day as hard as I did, and then not give it to you."

His hand was set down on the bed and I felt the electric current again—the need to reach forward and touch it. To comfort him and help him to understand how much he meant to me, how kind he had been to me, words that I couldn't say aloud, but could only express through a single touch.

I felt my hand slowly reach out to his, and he didn't flinch, but kept his hand still. I could feel the intensity of his eyes on me as I placed my hand on his. It felt like marble, stone-hard marble that was so unbelievably smooth. My eyes met his and were locked in his gaze for what seemed like hours.

Knock. Knock.

He suddenly pulled his hand out from mine.

"Excuse me, Dr. Cullen?" A nurse asked sweetly.

"Yes?" He stood up and walked to her.

"Um," she seemed dazzled by his presence, "Dr. Jeanie sent me to see what your plans were for tomorrow. He would like to know if you were taking the night shift tomorrow or the day shift?"

"The day shift," he answered.

"Oh. All right. Thank you." The nurse sounded surprised and she quickly left.

Carlisle turned his attention back to me.

"Esme?"

"Yes?"

He still stood at the end of my bed, hands in his pant pockets.

"I know that your parents are gone for a couple more days and tomorrow just happens to be the Fourth of July, so I was wondering if you would like to go with me to see the fireworks? I mean, I don't want you to be stuck in this dreary room all night tomorrow and the fresh air and walk would be good for your leg…" His words trailed off again.

"I would love too," I spoke delicately. "Thank you so much for asking me. You have no idea how much this means to me."

"My pleasure. Would 8 o' clock be an okay time tomorrow?"

"Yes of course. I'm not going anywhere," I teased. He through me a quick smile and started leaving the room.

"Well, goodnight Esme."

"Goodnight Carlisle," I yawned. I hadn't realized how tired I was. He flicked off the lamp beside me and turned off the larger light hanging above me. Then he closed the door silently behind him.

I laid down on the flat pillow exhausted, setting the previous moment with Carlisle aside, hoping to not think of it tonight in the hopes of getting a good night's sleep. Hopefully the stranger wouldn't come into my room again and wake me. I pulled the covers closer to me and closed my eyes, eager for the day with Carlisle ahead.


	4. Chapter 4: Assumptions

**All right here is it. Hope ya all like it!**

**Chapter Four: Assumptions**

There was darkness…depth…pain; the dream was so real, so vivid….alive. I felt myself running as fast as my legs could carry me. From what though? I only knew my dream was a nightmare and I couldn't bear it any longer. I couldn't get out of it; I could never break free.

"Oh!" I gasped and sat up immediately, covering my face in my hands, fighting the tears that burned my eyes.

"Esme?" A smooth voice came from the other side of the room. "What's wrong?"

The beautiful voice rang throughout my entire being. I didn't look at him though; I longed to see his face, but knew that once I did I would feel like a fool, a silly girl. I felt the bed dip as he sat down next to me, gently prying my fingers from my face and holding them in his hands—they felt like marble.

"It was j-just a b-bad d-dream," I stumbled over my words and gazed at the unimaginable beauty in front of me. His face was hard, concerned, lovely, and impossible to look away from.

"Are you all right?" He asked searching for the answer in my locked gaze.

I hesitated, looking into his black pupils. How could I not get lost in them? They were so honest, so understanding, so compassionate.

"Y-yes," I stumbled again, my hands quivering from the coldness of his. He suddenly let go.

"I'm sorry, my hands are always cold."

There was a long silence before either one of us spoke again. I didn't know what else to say and he seemed uncomfortable.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"It's hard to remember it. There was pain, fire, and darkness," I confessed weakly; tears now flowing down my reddened cheeks, I wiped them away. "My life was over, or at least in my dream I thought it was. I was running, there was pain building in my stomach and I halted before a cliff. I looked down at the flat; stone surface a hundred feet below. I didn't want to jump, but I felt like I needed too—I don't know why. I don't know why," My voice cracked and I forced my thoughts to be lost in Carlisle's briefly.

He listened intently, pain inflicted on his face and sorrow lingering in his eyes. "The last thing I remember, I was jumping off the cliff, and I don't know why? I don't know why? Oh Carlisle…" I cried and covered my face in my hands. It was a stupid reaction and a silly way for a sixteen-year-old girl to be acting.

I knew Carlisle didn't feel about me the way I felt about him, but there was nothing I wanted more at this moment then for him to hold me. Hold me so I knew someone cared, but on the other hand, I didn't want him to do anything. I didn't want him to have had to see me like this. There were so many emotions bundled up inside of me that I couldn't control them anymore.

Carlisle didn't say anything. He just gently pulled me into his arms and let me cry my eyes out. I knew he only thought of me as a little girl and that I should only think of him as a doctor, who had been extremely kind to me, but it was hard—almost impossible to think of him as just a friend. When I pulled away from him, he handed me a box of Kleenex.

"You might need this whole thing," He smiled cheerfully.

I smiled as I blew my nose.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" Carlisle placed his hands on my shoulders and squatted down in front of me.

"For acting silly over a nightmare," I replied, my voice evening out as I wiped my eyes.

"You weren't being silly, Esme, you had a bad dream that's all." His mood had changed from serious to light-hearted all at one time. He chuckled quietly. "So I think it best that you grab some fresh air. Let's go for a stroll, all right?" And he brought the wheel chair over to the side of the bed before I could respond.

"Are you sure I'm not taking up any of your time?" I hoped I wasn't so that, maybe selfishly, he could spend some time with me and I wouldn't feel guilty.

"Not at all. Now if you'll put your arm around my neck, I'll gladly help you into your wheel chair."

His body was freezing, even through the fabric, but I clung onto him. I could feel his muscles on my body as he lifted me into the wheel chair like I weighed no more than a feather.

"Are you cold?" He asked as soon as I was comfortably seated.

"A little," I replied.

"Well, it's chilly outside, even for a July day. Here." He took off one of the blankets from the hospital bed and handed it to me. "This should keep you warm."

The sky was cloudy and gray today with no sunlight beaming down like yesterday. It looked like it would rain, but Carlisle didn't hesitate as he rolled the wheelchair outside to the Columbus Hospital Park. Even though it was July, flowers were fully bloomed and the trees were still a rich jade. I gazed in awe at all the life here, all the wondrous nature, all the beauty. How could someone not love this?

"Do you like it?" Carlisle bent down to say softly in my ear.

"It's beautiful," I sighed. "What's that?" I pointed to an oak tree with a small, rectangular plaque in front.

"Oh, we call that the mother tree. It's dedicated to Dr. Rouse who founded this hospital about a hundred years ago," Carlisle said.

"Would you like to get a closer look?"

"Yes please."

"Hello Dr. Cullen, how are you today?" A sweet womanly voice said from behind us. I craned my head to look.

The sweet voice came from a skinny, blonde, and pretty nurse who's work outfit was little bit to short for a nurse to be wearing. She smiled a perfect smile at Carlisle. There was another one next to her; only she had dark brown hair and dark red lips, other than that, she looked pretty much the same as the other one. They both looked to be about early twenties (around Carlisle's age)

"Hello Ms. Woods, Ms. Lucas." He greeted her warmly with a dazzling smile. "What can I do for you today?"

"Well, we were just wondering if you would walk with us. We have a few questions about medical needs?" Ms. Woods beamed at him and tilted her head.

I rolled my eyes and watched as they tried to flatter Carlisle. I could understand why they did though. Having an extremely good-looking young man walking around with a simple, fair skinned, sixteen-year-old girl would make any pretty and young nurse jealous. But I was still annoyed.

"Actually I'm walking with Esme right now. Esme, Ms. Woods and Ms. Lucas," Carlisle introduced us and turned the wheel chair around so I would face them. I was filled with joy that he had picked me over them.

"Hello," I said surprisingly nicely, and extended my hand to shake it with them.  
They looked at each other and then frowned.

"My aren't you a cute little thing!" Ms. Lucas said as she squeezed my cheek momentarily. She was treating me like a baby. Maybe she was jealous? I pulled my hand away slowly, seeing as though they weren't going to shake it. The blonde one scoffed and eyed me rudely.

"Well," She finally spoke, looking directly at Carlisle, "maybe another time since you are busy with that little girl."

"Yes of course," Carlisle remained polite as they turned on their heels and left.

"I'm sorry about that back there," Carlisle apologized, as we continued to the tree.

"Oh, it's not your fault. I'm use to it anyways," I mumbled and shook my head. "My parents like to treat me like I'm a child too. And I understand why they behaved that way. There they are pretty and your age, and you're walking and talking with a sixteen-year-old, decent-looking girl who's crippled, who is—as what my parents say about me—not very good company." I told him truthfully. I wished I hadn't said that much.

"What?" he wheeled the chair around so I was facing him. His eyes were surprised and hurt.

I looked at him wide-eyed and confused. "What did you say?" There was more of anger in his voice then concern this time and I immediately regretted speaking.  
"I said that I understand why they're acting like that," I summarized nervously.  
Carlisle placed both of his hands on either side of the arm rests and looked intently into my eyes.

"Esme, you're a beautiful girl and great company; I enjoy having you around more than anyone else I've met. You don't have to be a certain age for anyone to take pleasure in your company," He still seemed shocked, but forced a small, gorgeous smile. "You don't really think of yourself as what you said, do you?" He eyes were still penetrating and utterly gorgeous and his tone came down.

"W-w-well," I stuttered unbelievably. He thought me beautiful? I'm pretty sure that right then and there he stole my heart away. "That's what people say—mostly my parents. I've never really had time to think of myself any differently; I've always been forced to think the way I was suppose too, the way that was….proper." My voice became undeniably shaky and I was nervous by his stare, but couldn't look away.

"What else do they say?" He pressed, not curiously but I felt there was a hint of anger still in his tone. He spoke sternly.

"Since I've been getting older they've been mentioning that once I get a husband I'll be beautiful. In our society or, my parent's minds, a woman's beauty is defined by how well she marries." My voice became confident as I continued. I think I was slowly learning to be honest with him. "Therefore, I am in trouble. People in my society only think me as pretty and I plan to marry for love." I finished, shrugging my shoulders.

He said, "Well, I disagree with most of that. A woman's beauty is defined by her inner character, not by whom she marries. And you are beautiful, so no need to worry about the marrying "well" part." His tone changed instantly from tolerant to serious, but yet extremely meaningful and wise. "But love, love is a difficult and rare thing to find—your other half, your soul mate. Once you find it, grasp it, and don't let it go." His eyes wandered away from mine now and seemed very distant as they shifted, in deep thought, to gaze out at the view of the garden behind me. "Because once you do, once you let it go, it's awfully hard to get it back or find it again—sometimes impossible." He turned back to me as his mouth curved upward into a beautifully white smile, placing his cool, smooth hands gently on either side of my face. "Sometimes, you're looking for it in all the wrong places, when it's really been staring you right in the face."

We looked at each other for one immeasurable moment. His thumbs stroked my cheekbones and I couldn't break from our gaze, even if I wanted to. Was he trying to tell me something? Did he love me? Maybe I was reading the signs wrong—because most of the time they seemed to be in a foreign language that I had recognized, but couldn't understand. Maybe he didn't love me, but just cared for me as a daughter, friend, or person. One thing was for sure; I wouldn't believe any assumptions that I had of his feelings for me until he declared them.

"Well," Carlisle stroked my cheek once more before pulling away and clearing his throat. He seemed to do that a lot in awkward situations. "Shall we continue on?" He suggested, holding out his hand to me.

I stared at him in shock. I felt my chin drop and my eyes grew bigger.

"W-what?" I stumbled yet again.

He smiled and repeated his question, "Esme Ann Platt, would you like to walk with me?"

"But I don't know if I can," I protested with no conviction. "I'd slow you down and you'd have to be very patient with me," I warned. He smiled wisely at me.

"I think you can and who says we're in a hurry?" He smiled yet again, his perfectly white teeth gleaming in the gray overcast of the day.

I smiled up at him in concurrence and took his hand—it was freezing, but I didn't care. Somewhat selfishly, I wished to know how many nurses were watching this, but I forced the thought from my mind; telling myself that they were merely just enamored by Dr. Cullen as I was, they just had a different way of showing it to others who held his attention. Oops. There goes that selfish thought again.

I tried to help him help me up by using my left arm to push me up off of the wheel chair, but I underestimated his strength, again—it would take some getting use to. I took his arm without hesitation as soon as he had offered it, and shivered briefly at his cool touch.

"Now," He said, as soon as we were standing next to each other, "we'll take the first steps very slowly at first. Try to put as little of pressure on your leg as possible, so as to put less strain on the wound. I'll help you ease the pressure as best I can." I could feel his sweet, honey-like breath on the side of my face, but I was concentrating too hard on the placement of my feet.

Carlisle placed his right hand on my right to steady my shaky arm on his left. The touch was unbelievably comforting; knowing someone—especially Carlisle—was there to help me. I slowly stepped forward, with the least amount of pressure possible, on my broken right leg. I couldn't bend it of course, due to the splint from the top of my ankle to top of my knee, but I managed. It hardly hurt, but I could definitely feel a little ache. I ignored it and threw my left leg in front effortlessly.

"Good Esme, good," Carlisle congratulated me serenely. I looked up at him and a smile of accomplishment lit my face as I saw his impressed grin. It was amazing. Even though I've seen him smile multiple times before, every single one was special and different, and never ceased to take my breath away.

We continued walking slowly, but surely, through the colorful garden for about a half an hour; discussing our likes, dislikes, everything basically. He already knew about my life, my "family", what activities I enjoyed, but he wanted to know more. He kept pelting me with questions and I dished out the answers just as fast. By this point, he knew more about me than anyone—even my parents. Then it was his turn. I learned that his father was an Anglican pastor in London, who had died a couple years ago. Carlisle told me that he had left London a few years before his father's death to pursue his career in medicine, where he eventually landed himself in New York and then later traveled to Columbus. Talking and being around Carlisle was one of the few things I enjoyed most and I think it made him happy too—though I reminded myself I couldn't fully believe my assumptions until he declared them.

"Are you married Carlisle?" I asked, before even considering if it was an appropriate question. He didn't seem to mind.

"No," He chuckled lightly. "Why do you ask?"  
"Um…well, there seems to be plenty of girls around here that like you…a lot," I raised my eyebrows in an obvious manner. And then I realized what direction he might be taking my explanation. "Oh! I didn't mean it disrespectfully or anything, it's just that…"

"Oh you aren't being disrespectful," He shook his head and smiled. "It's true, I do have many…admirers but none of them capture my heart like you do." He said modestly and flashed me a quick and lovely smile.

I was flattered. He just said that I captured his heart. But he probably only meant it in an honorable way, a respectful way; like how a "father thinks of his daughter" way. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks thrilled by his compliment and looked down again. He looked at his watch and sighed.

"Well I'm afraid I must escort you back to your wheelchair now, then back to your room. I have a couple more patients to see until my shift ends." He looked down at me. I nodded.

"Thank you for the nice afternoon. I really do appreciate you taking time to talk with me."

"Awe, no problem. I enjoy your company and our conversations." He beamed down at me.

As usual, I blushed a deep red and we walked back down the path to my wheelchair.

**Well I hope you guys liked it. This is personally my favorite chapter. I just think it's really sweet. Oh I want my own Carlisle! lol.**


	5. Chapter 5: Deserving

I have found a temporary name for my story: Esme's Lullaby and I will be changing the title so if you want to review look under that name. And in case your wondering, no, it does not have anything to do with Esme's favorite piece of music by Edward, well, a little bit, but you'll find out later.

So Chapter Five was one of the hardest to write by far. I wasn't sure what way to take it, I had all these different endings running through my head. Aghhh! But it's completed now. Hope ya all like it! =)

**Chapter Five: Deserving**

I was back in my room five minutes later. Carlisle bid me farewell until eight this evening when he would come and escort me to Fourth of July fair. He had many other patients to see until his shift ended at seven thirty. But before he left, he gave me some books that I could read so that I would have something to do. I said thank you and he left gracefully.

I looked at the three books he had handed to me: Much Ado About Nothing, Pride and Prejudice, and Treasure Planet. I have read two out of the three and enjoyed them thoroughly. The endless banter between Benedick and Beatrice amused me greatly and the conversations between Lizzie Bennett and Mr. Darcy were fantastic. Seeing as though I had already read those two, I selected Treasure Planet to read first. Mother and Father never approved of fantasies like that, or even Jane Austen to my surprise, but they weren't there to take them away this time. I opened the book to page one and began reading.

The main character, Jim Hawkins, is adventurous and brave, which I admired plenty. The way he strived for his dreams and yearned to be different was the way that I was. It was amazing, knowing that a character in a book could be like you in so many ways; the way you could relate to a story and use your imagination, maybe that's why I liked reading so much. The pictures were bright and colorful as well and brought the book to life even more. Mother would definitely disagree with this book. The story was about a boy who followed his dreams and did things his own way. Mother would not agree with that. 'To be respected in society you must follow the rules. Following your own lead is not part of the rules, so please Esme, do not disappoint me again.' I rolled my eyes and continued reading, hoping to forget my mother's rules.

I had gotten so lost in my books that I didn't even notice the time.

"Uh, excuse me, Miss. Platt?"

"Yes." I looked up from Pride and Prejudice and noticed a young, dark-haired, and pretty nurse at the edge of my bed. She wore the same outfit as all the other nurses only hers was longer and came down to her knees.

"Hello, I'm Mrs. O'Connell and I was sent by Dr. Cullen to help you get ready for the evening." She smiled warmly at me and I was thankful that she was a "Mrs." I looked at the clock and gasped. Was it really seven thirty already?

"Oh! It's really late. I do have to get ready." I tried to hop off of the bed quickly, but was restrained by my broken leg. I sighed. The nurse smiled again.

"Ah, Miss Platt, you'll be ready in no time," She assured me. "Your parents left a bag of your clothes before they left for Boston and placed them in the custody of me." She placed the bag on the bed next to me. "Why don't you just pick out what you would like to wear and I'll help you into it."

"Thank you."

"No problem," She replied kindly.

I grabbed the bag and began digging for something nice to wear. Of course that was all that was in there—dresses, dresses, and more dresses—but I didn't mind. I wanted to look extra nice for Carlisle anyway.

I selected a white dress that came down to my knees and was fitted on the waist, but flared out attractively at the hips. The tops of my shoulders showed, due to a strip of white lace below the collarbone that draped around my upper arms and back. The dress was truly beautiful and, for once, I didn't mind wearing it. The nurse helped me into it—despite my bulky leg—and pulled out an accessory of her own.

"Here you go. This is for you," She smiled yet again and tied a blue silk sash around my waist, tying a bow in the back. I beamed at her in surprise. "Thank you, but why?"

"Because Carlisle has told me so much about you and how sweet you are. I just thought you deserved something extra nice," She replied modestly, pulling back part of curls and tying them together with a red ribbon. The rest of my caramel-colored curls draped onto my shoulders and two hung loosely on each side of my face.

"You look very pretty, Miss Platt," Mrs. O'Connell complimented, turning me around slowly to face her. "The Doctor will have his breath taken away."

I felt my face immediately light up and flush a deep cherry. "Really?" I asked excitedly.

She beamed at me and nodded. "Yes, definitely sweetie."

"Thank you for helping me get ready."

"No problem. Have a good time," She called as left the room.

Well, that was the nicest nurse I've met so far. Maybe it was because she was married, and knew she couldn't fall in love—or lust—with Carlisle; but, on the other hand, I bet that even married women would have a hard time not drooling at Carlisle.

The time was seven forty-five and I was getting impatient. If only the time could pass was my first date ever, and to have it be a man that was gorgeous and so high above me was a wonderful feeling.

I noticed that my mother had placed a light pink shade of lipstick into my bag, thankfully. I usually never wore make-up, but since I was going out with Carlisle, I needed to look my very best. I hoped I looked presentable, or at least pretty, especially for Carlisle.

I glanced in the mirror of my hospital room and knew there was nothing else I could do with my look sadly, but I looked better than most days. I carefully sat back down on the bed and waited for Carlisle to come. I looked impatiently at the clock on the wall, watching each minute tick by slowly. The big hand crept up to the twelve gradually and I saw the doorknob turn. I held my breath.

"My, Esme you do look beautiful," An angelic voice came from the doorway.

Carlisle walked in elegantly, closing the door silently behind him. I almost gasped at him, but managed to take control of my thoughts. He looked excruciatingly gorgeous, but that wasn't exactly new, and yet, I couldn't help but think it. The light blue, dress shirt looked lovely on him and complimented his creamy, golden eyes. His pants were a medium tan and his shoes a deep, rich brown that were shiny—he must have gotten them polished. Why did he have to look so handsome when I could barely pass for pretty? But that question soon disappeared from my mind as he walked towards me. His eyes gleamed, like they always did and it made my heart stutter. His skin, always whiter than white and his blonde hair arranged differently, but it looked good for a special day. I could only gaze at him till I convinced myself to snap out of it.

"Really?" I asked stupidly. "Thank you. You look very nice yourself." But what I really wished to say was, 'you look drop-dead gorgeous'.

"Thank you." He chuckled lightly. "Are you ready to go?" He asked.

"Yes."

He lent me his arm and helped me off the bed. His arm was freezing, even through the fabric, but I learned to ignore it. "Let's go." He beamed at me.

People stared at us as he led me through the hallway and out to the lobby—especially the nurses who were much prettier than I. One of them glared at me and scoffed. Carlisle sighed disappointed with their behavior, but he led me to the front door patiently. I looked down sheepishly; Carlisle seemed to recognize my uneasiness. He leaned down to whisper in my ear, "Don't pay attention to them, you look wonderful tonight."

There was a car outside of the hospital waiting for us. I looked at Carlisle astonished.

"Where'd you find this?" I asked.

"Well, you couldn't very well walk on that leg the whole way now, could you?" He stated with a sparkle in his eyes. I just beamed up at him. He must be at least 4 inches taller then me.

He helped me up into the back seat of the car and made sure I was settled. He was opening the door on the other side before I had even buckled. Wow, he moved fast. There was a driver in the front seat who looked like a chauffeur—complete with the hat and everything. I laughed quietly to myself.

The sky was already a turning a deeper blue and the sun was slowly setting over the horizon—twilight. The street lanterns turned on and as we got closer to the parade, the numbers of people seemed to grow in the streets and on the sidewalks wearing their tight petticoats and other fashionable clothing. There were boys and girls running up and down the street waving flags and playing tag. What a sight! Mother and Father had never approved of me going to the parade before. They didn't think it was appropriate for a young girl to be out after nine. So I stuck to opening my window and sitting on the roof, watching the colorful fireworks from there—alone, but content. This time I wasn't alone though; I was with a caring and handsome, young man who made me happy and stood up for me. I didn't look out of the car window for long though, I was looking at someone else much more attractive and stunning: my date, Doctor Carlisle Cullen.

A few times I would catch him smiling at me and I would giggle sheepishly in return. Every smile, every laugh, every word from him was breath taking and I couldn't help, but be surprised every time. I felt the car slowly pull towards a stop on the side of the road as Carlisle got out fluidly to open my side of the door and help me out. I grasped his arm again for support and he didn't show any sign of distress as he lifted most of my weight.

As soon as we were safely on the sidewalk, Carlisle waved to the driver and smiled politely. Then he turned to me, his eyes piercing, but comforting.

"I would like to take you somewhere." He smiled down at me as we walked past the crowds on the sidewalk. Booths crowded the streets and lights lit up the path. Stores were all shut down and I could hardly hear the voices of the people around me. Carlisle's voice was too captivating.

"Okay." I said softly returning the smile as best I could.

We were soon on another path off of the crowded streets and away from the many hustling people. The sky grew darker and as I glanced behind me, I could see the lights of the city in the distance. It was quiet on the pathway, peaceful. Neither Carlisle nor I spoke for the majority of the walk and that suited me just fine; as long as I was here with him, I was completely happy. The night had grown cooler and goose bumps covered my body; the sky was a pitch black now with only the full, white moon for light. Finally I spoke.

"Carlisle, where are we going?" I asked quietly, hoping that I wasn't annoying him.

"We're almost there and then you'll see." I could hear him smile as he said those words softly.

"But--." I wanted to object.

"Just trust me, Esme; you must learn to trust," He told me calmly with a hint of wisdom in his pure voice. I smiled and sighed. That was one lesson I was never taught.

I could feel Carlisle pause in his smooth footsteps and turn to me as I felt the path grow more elevated. I just stared at him; even in the moonlight he looked unbelievably gorgeous—like a god.

"Do you mind if I carry you the rest of the way?" He asked me simply. "The path grows into a hill and it would be hard on your leg." He quickly explained. I shook my head, unable to form one simple word, "no"—as far as I'm concerned, he didn't need to ask to carry me; anytime, anywhere.

"Good." He said and lifted me into his arms effortlessly.

I must admit I was taken by surprise. A man has never made such contact like this with me before. I put my arms around his neck and his arm wrapped around my waist and my upper legs. The feeling was incredible, but I immediately blocked it from my mind as soon as it came. I turned my head to look back and see how far we'd come, but Carlisle rejected it.

"No, no Esme," He scolded jokingly. "You mustn't look yet, not till we're at the very top." His breath was cool, sweet, and somewhat soothing as it blew into my face and I didn't blink once—it stunned me. I could feel the earth beneath us start to flatten and he set me down slowly. I'm pretty sure that we were sitting on grass because the feel was soft and comfortable.

"Can I look now?" I smiled, peaking my eyes open.

"Yes." I could feel Carlisle breath into my ear.

My eyes flew open immediately and I saw the distant lights on the streets of Columbus. There were multiple, bright colors exploding in the sky with crackles, pops, and explosions of the fireworks going off. They lit up the sky and we could hear people cheering from down below on the streets. I looked around at where he had brought me too. We were on a grassy hill surrounded by nothing—no trees, bushes, or flowers in sight. The stars were out now and the moon shone as bright as ever amidst the darkened sky. We could see the whole glowing town from our perch, but we were completely alone. The scenery was breath taking. I turned to Carlisle who had now sat down besides me. His mouth was curved upward into an amazing smile and his eyes glowered with happiness.

"Do you like it?" He asked, leaning back on the palms of his hands.

"I-I love it." I couldn't stop gawking at him. My heart beat faster and I could feel the blood rushing in my veins. This was all too much to take. Never had I been given this much before—how lucky I was. I couldn't bear it any longer. I didn't deserve this. I could feel the hot tears clouding my eyes and I didn't attempt to make them stay in—they spilled over.

Carlisle's happy expression disappeared as he saw my tears overflow. He looked shocked, hurt. "Esme? What's wrong?" I looked down, as usual, and my face became emotionless. I quickly wiped my tears away and sniffled.

"Nothing's wrong," I lied. "I was just being silly that's all." I didn't meet his eyes; frightened of seeing the perplexity in them.

"Esme, please tell me. What did I do?"

"It's j-just…you've been the kindest man I've ever met. No one has ever treated me like this before, which leads me to believe I don't deserve to be treated this nicely…by anyone. So when you are treating me so well I-I…" I stumbled my way through my explanation and made sure my eyes didn't reach his. How much I wanted to tell him I loved him. How much I wanted him to love me in return. How much I never wanted this night to end. I wanted so many things, and every time I thought of them it made me feel ungrateful, snobby, just like my mother.

"Esme, listen to me," He shifted his body so that he was facing me and took my hand. "You deserve everything wonderful in this world, and no less. You can't let everyone tell you how to think, how to act, what you are, and what you deserve. You are the only person who knows completely who you are and…" His hand lifted towards my cheekbone and he stroked it gently as he smiled shyly. "And I can't…won't stand to see you get abused because you aren't "good" enough for those…people." He spat the word. "Because I truly believe you deserve a lot better and I cannot…bear to see you not loved," Carlisle looked as though he would cry—something I'd never thought I'd witness. He'd always seemed so reserved, calm, a man who kept his emotions in, but right now he was different, and I couldn't help but be touched by that.

Tears were now pouring down my cheeks and a small smile lit my face. My hand reached up slowly to touch his that was on my cheek and I closed my eyes briefly.

"You really think I deserve more?" I asked softly, happily, with a hint of surprise in my voice. I couldn't believe it! He truly believed I deserved better. Never in my life has someone ever told me that I deserved better than how I was being treated. Never in my life has someone told me that I was worthy of more than I was given, that I was worthy of being loved and cared for.

"Could I have just said that from the bottom of my heart and not have meant it?" He asked with a smile. His hand was still stroking my cheekbone and his other holding my hand. His smile disappeared and mine did as well.

"Agh! This is wrong." He got up frustrated and put his hands on his hips. How could one's face turn from such peace and serenity to anger and frustration all at one time?

"What?" I tried to get up, but was unsuccessful.

"It's me. I-I-I." He staggered, shaking his head.

"What is it, Carlisle? You can tell me anything." Worry was deep in my voice—I couldn't hide it. I managed to get up, but I lost my balance, due to that darn leg. Carlisle grabbed me around the waist just inches before I hit the ground. He turned me to him; his hands still holding my waist, mine were locked on his shoulders for support. He looked me deeply in the eyes and said simply, but so passionately,

"I've fallen in love with you."

**Oh yes, just in case your wondering, Treasure Planet wasn't written until the 1950s and this story takes place during 1911, but anywho, I wanted Esme to read Treasure Planet because the character is brave, adventurous, and kind like her.**

**Another thing:**

**This was one of the things that I changed about Carlisle and Esme's story. SM says that Carlisle did not fall in love with Esme at their first meeting, and that Esme only fell in love with him--though meeting Esme did leave a strong impact on Carlisle. I changed it, well because I wanted too. I wanted to make it more romantic and cute that way. Hope you all liked it!**


	6. Chapter 6: First and Last

**Chapter Six: First and Last**

I couldn't speak, breath, react, anything. Carlisle had just declared his love for me. A love that I believed I wasn't worthy of; a love I yearned for so badly, but never expected—especially from Carlisle: the incredibly sweet, handsome, compassionate, and young doctor. I stared at him dumbfounded.

"You do?" A very tiny smile brightened my face.

He sighed, but a small smile lit his pale face. "I do." He said calmly.

"Oh my goodness," I put my hand over my mouth. Carlisle seemed confused by my reaction. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes (again) as I hesitantly reached my hand down to my waist to take Carlisle's. I brought his hand up to my mouth and kissed it.

A growing smile swept his features and his eyes gleamed gold. He leaned down slowly to my face and I could feel his sweet breath on me. Then he captured my lips with his. My first kiss, and it was with an amazing man. They molded into mine and I could feel his cool lips part mine as the kiss grew to be deeper and deeper. He pressed me up against him, my hands tangled in his golden locks. I could stay here forever. All to soon, he broke away.

He looked hurt. "I'm sorry." That was not the response I had imagined him to have. He still kept his hands on me, but I had a feeling it was only to support me.

"Why?"

"Because this is immoral of me. I can't…I can't offer you a life with me, Esme." He paused as he struggled for words. "I want to, oh so badly. I love you and I'd be honored to spend the rest of my life with you, but…there is something unworldly that you cannot know about and…" His voice rose into an irritated tone; one I had never heard from him before. "It prevents us from being together." He finished heartbroken.

"Carlisle, I-I," I touched my hand to his cool cheek. "Remember what you were telling me earlier about trust? I trust you and I understand." He turned his eyes from mine. "Carlisle, please look at me." I begged lightly. His eyes met mine and I almost forget what I was going to say. "I don't care if this ends tomorrow, or never. I do love you, so incredibly much, and I want to be with you. But since I can't…" I spoke sincerely, slowly, but I found that I couldn't finish. I was too sad. "Oh God!" I cried quietly. "Silly for me to think that this could work." I covered my face with my hands and tried to hide my tears. "Even if you could offer me marriage, my parents would never approve."

"Oh Esme," Carlisle hugged me to him and kissed my hair. He sighed.

"Can you do me a favor, Carlisle?" I asked as I pulled away; the tears had stopped flowing now.

"Anything," He breathed.

"Can we just have tonight, like can we be all that we want tonight and worry about us tomorrow?" I asked hesitantly, but so desperately. I didn't care if we couldn't be together at this point. I just wanted to have our first and last date if that was all that he could offer me, and I wanted it to be wonderful, unforgettable. Because I was sure that I would never fall in love with another man like I had with Carlisle and I wanted to make the best of what we could.

"Wouldn't it hurt you too much?" He asked, his eyes worried and impossibly irresistible. "Wouldn't it be harder for you to let go?"

I thought about that for a moment before answering. "I'll never fully let go, Carlisle, never. But I'll try to go on as well as I can…"

"But I don't want you to have to go through any pain, Esme," He interrupted calmly. "I want you to let go of this…of me."

"Carlisle," I looked up in his eyes to make sure he was listening, "I don't care about me. I'll be fine. I just want tonight to be…unforgettable. I want to have a good memory of us to take with me. I want to remember that you love me, just like I've always dreamed. So please let's have an amazing night tonight." I ran my fingers through his silky hair and he sighed.

"But Esme, I don't want you to remember me." I froze.

"No, not like that, but I want you to not hope for something that will never happen. I don't want you to suffer because of me." He paused.

"Forbidden to remember, terrified to forget, huh?" I looked up at him as soon as I knew my eyes had drifted away.

"Oh no, Esme, no," He spoke softly, almost a whisper and leaned forward to press his icy lips to my forehead. "I just don't want you to not go on with your life because we can't be together. I want you to remember the good things about me, not the bad."

"That's a very difficult request." I said. "And what's bad about you? All I see is good."

He chuckled, lightening the mood. "I'll be all that you want tonight, but tomorrow we'll have to go back to reality." His voice turned serious again as he stroked my hair. I nodded.

"Thank you." I breathed.

"Come," He smiled. "Let's sit and enjoy our evening together."

He wrapped his arms around my waist and set me in his lap. I leaned against his body and he rested his cheek on the side of my head just above my ear, wrapping his arms around my waist as I clung to them. He was freezing but I tried to not shiver, even though the cool air that hung in the sky wasn't helping either. The fireworks continued to shoot off in bright, vivid colors, and every time there was cheers coming from the town below.

"You're cold, aren't you?" He stated. "Here." He took off his jacket and helped me poke my arms through it.

"Thank you," I murmured. The jacket smelled sweet—wonderful in fact, just like him.

We sat for minutes in silence just watching the bright colors burst above us, content in each other's arms. I know that I could trust him—immensely, but I still wished to know why he couldn't marry me. What couldn't he tell me that was so private, so secretive, that if I found out it would ruin us both? But that wasn't the number one thing that was on my mind at the moment. I couldn't believe he loved me. After all those assumptions, all that self-denial of his feelings for me, it actually turned out that he loved me…he loved me. I kept on saying it over and over again in my head, and every time, it surprised me just as much as when he had first declared it.

I repeated it over in my head until the voice became so loud that I began whispering it. He loves me. He loves me. Until my voice grew and I hadn't yet

realized I was saying it aloud.

"Truly I do," He whispered in my ear. I smiled to myself, closing my eyes. No! I told myself. I must stay awake; I can't loose any minute I have with him.

"Esme?"

"Yes?"

"There's something else I need to talk to you about."

"Yes, what is it, Carlisle?" I sat up straight from his lap and turned to face him.

"I'll be leaving in a couple of days," He looked down.

"Why?" I asked calmly.

He exhaled. "I'm leaving to go to another hospital. I can't tell you why," Carlisle's soft words rang throughout my ears.

"Is this the same reason why we can't be together?" It was more of a statement than a question. He nodded, running his fingers through his blonde hair in frustration. I didn't know what to say to that—I just knew I had to trust him.

"Well, that may be for the best," My voice shook as I forced out the dreaded sentence.

I didn't want to cry in front of him, in the fear of making the situation worse and causing him more pain then he needed. I didn't want to live a life without him either, but I knew that that was impossible now. All of a sudden my life had taken an exciting turn. I had met the man of my dreams and thought that he didn't love me and that dreaming was hopeless, but just being around him made me the happiest I'd ever been in my life. But when I discovered that he loved me—for some reason I do not know—there seemed to be some hope of us being together. But that had all been dashed away in the single moment after he had declared his feelings for me. There was no hope left, it seemed, and my life had gone back to what it had always been before, but his presence was still there, strong and vivid, and I looked forward to seeing it, to feeling it every time—even if it caused me pain.

"Yes," He didn't sound confident. The fireworks had stopped now and it seemed like we had only been there for minutes, but it had been more than I had thought.

"I think it best that we be heading back now," Carlisle said quietly as the sky was no longer lit with anything but the moon.

"But I don't want to go back yet," I protested calmly. "I want to spend the rest of the night with you before we have to go our separate ways." I hated being selfish, but I couldn't help it at this point. I wanted to stay with Carlisle until the end of my life, and since I couldn't…well then, I wanted to be with him tonight

as much as I could tonight.

"My dear Esme," He shifted me in his lap carefully, as to not hurt my leg. "Who says that we're going back to the hospital?" He pointed out in a sweet voice. I beamed up at him.

"Then where are we going?" I asked excitedly.

"You'll see." I could, yet again, hear the smile in his musical voice.

He helped me up and carried me in his arms down the hill. As soon as we had reached flat ground, he set me down, wrapping his arm around my waist—a more intimate touch compared to when he had led me up to the grassy meadow.

Most of the town had all gone to bed and the streets were now empty, except for the bits and pieces of burnt debris dispersed throughout the streets. We walked throughout the quieted town just talking about the random things we usually talked about. How much I wanted to know why he couldn't see me anymore after tonight. What was his secret? It must be a huge one being as though he had to keep it from me. I just knew I had to trust him. And so I did, even though it was utterly painful to do so.

"Are we almost there?" I asked impatiently, looking up at him. Even in the moonlight his feature were still as clear as day, and just as beautiful.

He chuckled.

"Almost, my dear, almost."

He led me around a street corner and we heard laughing and mocking in the distance. It must be some young men just having fun, I thought. Carlisle seemed to think along the same lines as me since he continued to lead me down the darkened street. I could see a bonfire where they were laughing and dancing around. As we neared them, they stopped all of a sudden. Their faces were staring at Carlisle and I. All of a sudden, I felt uneasy; Carlisle tightened his grip on my waist and ignored them. The three, no, four men dropped their bottles of what appeared to be beer and they broke with a splintering sound that made me shudder.

"Hello," A man with dark, messy hair greeted us with a smirk. His clothes were all old and worn and he looked to be about early thirties.

Carlisle didn't stop walking; he just nodded in greeting and tensed up.

"Where ya going, sir? You shouldn't be out late with a pretty girl like that," One of the others ordered laughingly. He looked much like the other man; only his hair was a dark black.

"Yes, sir," The third one added and came forward. "You never know what thugs will be out at night." I shivered uncomfortably.

The men came closer and surrounded us.

"Excuse me, but we had best be going," Carlisle said calmly to them.

"Um, how about you leave the little lady with us," The first man said; it sounded more like a request then a suggestion.

"Why would I do that?" Carlisle stiffened.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll do it," The fourth one came out of the darkness. He was overweight and sweaty, his hair was askew and his round face was covered in smoke.

"Hmmm, let me think about that," Carlisle said sarcastically, squeezing my hand.

It all happened so quickly then. Carlisle pulled me behind him and punched one the men in the nose, then he quickly elbowed the second man in the chin and kicked him in the gut. The third one came at him with a large branch and attempted to whack him with it, but Carlisle was too quick for that. He grabbed the stick from him and broke it in two with his knee. He grabbed the fourth one by the shirt collar and threatened in a husky voice, "We are going to leave now and you will not follow us. You and your men will go about you business and not harm or threaten anyone else tonight because if you do, I will hear of it and the result for you will not be pleasant."

Before I knew it, he had picked me up in his arms and took off at a speed I didn't know possible. It seemed as though we were flying through the air, but I knew that was impossible. How could he be so fast? I covered my face in his shoulder in fear and because the wind was whipping my hair in my face. I couldn't speak, couldn't see, could hardly breath, but all of sudden I felt safe—safer than I had ever been before.

I daringly lifted my head from his shoulder and saw everything was a blur. The city lights were a haze as he ran; the men were long gone, but Carlisle continued to run. The air was cold and whipped me in my face and I couldn't help but turn my face back to Carlisle's shoulder. His breath was even next to mine and I should have been confused, but at the moment, all I could think was: is he okay?

**--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Okay a couple of notes on this one:**

**Firstly, when Esme says, "forbidden to remember, terrified to forget" that is SM's line not mine (disclaimer)**

**Just to clear up some possible confusion: When Carlisle says, "We are going to leave now and you will not follow us. You and your men will go about you business and not harm or threaten anyone else tonight because if you do, I will hear of it and the result for you will not be pleasant" what he means by "i will hear of it" is he has a feeling that those men are rapists or sexual abusers so he knows that if they harm another girl that she will be admitted to the hospital. He will know that it is them by their scent on the girl and he will not be happy with it of course and will make sure that they are put in jail for it.**

**All in all, I hoped you guys liked it.**

**Reviews always make my day! =D**


	7. Chapter 7: A Reminder

**Note: Sorry about if you got the same email saying my story has been updated about a hundred times. My computer was being ridiculous, but now it is finally loaded properly.**

**WARNING: Very sad. =( All the same, I hope you like it.**

**Chapter Seven: A Reminder**

Eventually Carlisle slowed down and was walking at a pace faster than a normal person. He still held me in his arms and I clung to him gladly. He didn't say anything so I thought it best that I didn't either—although I wanted to. His breathing was slow and even next to mine and I didn't bother asking him how he was not panting after that long run—especially with me in his arms. I looked up at his face and saw perplexity and, not fear but anger. He stared straight ahead into the darkness and I tried to follow his gaze, but was too focused on his handsome features and captivating eyes; his face amazed me on how much emotion it could show and still look beautiful.

I managed to tear my gaze away from his face and look in the direction that he was staring, but all I could see was darkness. I resisted the urge to ask where we were going. I knew that it was nowhere dangerous because I could trust him with anything, even my life—he had proved it back there. But as far as I was concerned, he didn't need to prove anything to let me know that I could trust him. I just did and that was enough.

Lights soon showed in the distance and I recognized them as house lights. We must have been in some neighborhood a few minutes from town, except I saw no other house lights, just one pair. So many questions I wanted to ask him, but only one was the most important to me.

"Carlisle?" I said quietly. "Are you all right?" His face seemed to soften all of a sudden, but his eyes still stared straight ahead.

"Out of all the odd things that has happened tonight you don't bother questioning those, but instead you ask the least important one: if I'm all right," His voice was soft and controlled and I think I might have sensed some surprise in it.

"It's the most important to me," I told him, never taking my eyes away from his.

He let out a deep, frustrated sigh before he set me down; hands in mine he looked me straight in the eyes—his pierced my soul.

"Yes, I'm fine, sweet Esme." He smiled and kissed my hand. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." I nodded. "But are you sure that your knuckles aren't swollen or bleeding or anything; you punched those men pretty hard." I smiled at this, remembering how brave he was.

"They're fine. Thank you." He flashed me a white grin.

I smiled back. "Good. Now where are we?"

"We're almost there," Carlisle let go of my hands and wrapped his arm around my waist supporting me.

We had only taken about ten steps when he finally stopped.

"This is it." He gestured his hand to the hills in front of us.

I looked around confused at first, and then it dawned on me. "Oh my gosh!" I brought my hand to my mouth. We were standing right in front of where that old oak tree use to be, near my house!

"Do you know this place?" He asked, his golden eyes suddenly questionable.

"This is where the oak tree was, isn't it?" I clarified in awe.

"Yes, but how did you know that?"

I ignored his question. "And down the road is the O'Malley Plantation," I added.

"Yes, but Esme—." Carlisle began.

"And that is where I…" I pointed to the spot where the oak tree had once been—strong and gallant. I covered my mouth as to hold in the sob from within my chest, but a mere cry escaped it.

"Esme?" Carlisle was worried now. "What is it? Are you hurt?" He set me down on the hard ground and grasped my hand in his. I didn't reach his gaze; all I could do was stare at the spot of where the oak tree had once stood, of where I had fallen from, thus leading me to Carlisle.

I finally came up with the courage to tell him about how my broken leg came about. It was hard at first because I believed that he would think me foolish for doing so, but after discovering his non-judgmental character, I learned to trust him.

"I never told you how I broke my leg did I?" The words came out easily and I squeezed his hand.

He shook his head. "No, and you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," He added sweetly.

"No, no I want to. I think it's time." He'd wiped a fallen tear from my cheek. I didn't realize that I was crying quietly till now.

He nodded and his eyes softened. I heaved a deep sigh and began my story.

"My parents—as you already know—have always been difficult and demanding. They do not approve of my manner and attitude, stubborn personality and improper ways. One day last week, my father said that he was going to have the oak tree—this oak tree--," I pointed to the spot where it had been. "Cut down because he saw it as a nuisance, a thing that annoyed him and "blocked" the view from our home. I love that oak tree. Day after day I would read under it and climb up into it to gaze at the unimaginable beauty in the far distance." I smiled at those happy memories and sighed.

"Then, a few days ago, my father had sent two lumberjacks to cut it down; he also made the sheriff come, for he knew I would be difficult. I climbed up into the tree so that they wouldn't cut it down, but my parents came and started to scold me and I realized that the tree would be cut down, no matter what I did. But before that, I noticed a bird's nest on the highest branch, and I climbed up to it." The tears began to flow more freely now and I looked down, embarrassed by my emotions. "I thought, that if I couldn't save the tree then I could at least save the bird's nest and the eggs." I said in between quiet tears, my voice growing shakier by every word that flowed out of my quivering mouth. "But I was wrong. I was careless and I slipped on a patch of slimy moss on the tree. Before I knew it, I was falling…falling," I had to catch my breath. Even though I wasn't looking at Carlisle I could feel his intense gaze on me. "The last thing I remember was yelping out in pain at the terrible sound of my leg snapping. Later my father told me that my efforts had been for nothing because the tree was cut down and the nest was smashed. So don't you see Carlisle? My efforts have been for nothing, you falling in love with me has been for nothing. I don't deserve anything good because I was a foolish girl—a silly, silly girl who tries to make the best of what she has, but can't. I don't deserve this…you." My voice grew with frustration as I shouted out the last words, angry at myself.

I glanced up at his eyes and saw pain inflicted upon his face. Pain because of me. Pain because I was careless. Pain, pain, pain. His eyes bore meaning, control, and serenity, but hurt and I looked down at the ground again. I didn't know what to say anymore. I was at a loss for words. I slowed my silent crying to not make more of a fool out of myself then I already had. The silence was unbearable, and I wouldn't be surprised if Carlisle decided that it was time to take me back to the hospital now.

"'How can someone so young, so innocent, mean so much to you?' That is what one of the nurses asked me yesterday," He spoke up and slowly, making sure I got in every word. I searched my mind for the same answer to the question. Why do I mean so much to him?

"And I said 'because she's caring, adventurous, brave, she has the ability to love even though she has never been loved herself before. She's beautiful—inside and out—and she's not afraid to stand up for anyone; she puts others before herself. That is why she means so much to me. And she doesn't mean so much to me because I feel I have to care for her because no one else will. I love her because of who she is," Carlisle's smooth voice accentuated on the last word. "And…" He placed a cool finger underneath my chin to lift it up to his face, making my eyes meet his that were calm, soft but concentrated. "And I will never stop loving her."

"But I don't--."

"Shh shh," Carlisle said with a brief smile. "Just know that I do." He spoke so quietly, almost a whisper. His words were so short, so concise, but I now believed them; I truly believed them.

"I love you too, Carlisle," I whispered, letting his eyes burn through my body.

I meant it, every single word. Who knew that those three words could mean so much? Even after all the famous romances I have read, not one could describe the feeling of being loved and loving someone. I don't think it could be described; it's just something a person feels I think. An intense feeling that only you and that one person can share in that certain and special way; a bond that only you and that person understand. A feeling indescribable, unreal, that can even cause pain sometimes, but it makes you and the person want to work harder and love each other deeper. He was my Mr. Darcy after all.

"And Esme?" He broke my intense thoughts with his harmonious voice.

"Yes?"

"I don't think you foolish for climbing that tree. So please don't make yourself believe that I think of you like that," He placed one hand slowly on my cheek, caressing it up and down the jaw line. "Because I would have done the same thing, and I thought you were very brave." He consoled me, not from his words, but I felt it; he meant it, I know he did.

"Thank you, Carlisle," I tilted my head slightly downwards, but my eyes were still locked on his deep golden ones, "for everything."

He didn't respond this time. There was a small, but beautiful smile that grew upon his face as his hand slowly slid down to the bottom of my chin. He leaned in closer to me and brought his other hand to my hair. I didn't resist as he pulled us nearer; I let him. I hesitantly reached to his golden locks and smoothened it thoroughly, smiling as I went. Then his lips were on mine; cold and smooth like glass, but so gentle at the same time. I tangled my hands in his hair, deepening the kiss. I parted my mouth, letting him send in a wave of his sweet breath—it was intoxicating. We pulled away at the same time and Carlisle placed his hands lightly on my face, pulling us closer so that our foreheads were touching. His breath was cool on my face and even though my leg hurt terribly, I wanted nothing more then to stay with Carlisle like this forever.

"Oh Esme," Carlisle smiled, but it did not reach his eyes.

He slowly lifted me into his lap and I relaxed gladly. His arms around my waist, mine resting on his, playing with his fingers. I leaned against his strong body comfortably and resisted the urge to shiver. His cheek rested against my ear and he kissed the side of my face briefly. I sighed completely content.

There was peaceful, soothing silence for many minutes, and all I could hear was the restful breathing of Carlisle and I. We were soon lying down on the ground, his arm wrapped around me as we looked up at the stars, pointing and giggling at the odd shapes that we found within them.

"You see that big one right there?" Carlisle pointed to one straight ahead. I squinted my eyes.

"Um…I think so," I said non-convincingly.

He laughed such a beautiful laugh that rang like church bells.

"Here." He pulled out a small microscope and handed it to me. I looked through it.

"Oh, I see it now! It's beautiful" I exclaimed happily. He chuckled again. "What's so important about that one?" I asked curiously, turning my head to look at him.

Carlisle sat up quietly and I did as well. He placed his hand on the small of my back and continued to look up at the night sky. I waited patiently and leaned back on my palms. He turned towards me.

"I had it named for you," He spoke slowly as he pulled out a couple of papers from his pocket and handed them to me. I was speechless. "I've got proof." He smiled. "I wouldn't have told you if I knew you didn't feel the same way about me or else it might have made you uncomfortable. But since you do love me as I love you, I wanted to tell you."

I stared down at the papers, not really reading them. I was still taken by surprise. Tears welled up in my eyes for like the tenth time tonight and I looked up at him.

"Carlisle, I don't know what to say," I choked out. He mouth curved upward into a glistening smile that sent my heart to flutter. "Thank you. That was so unbelievably kind of you." I had meant every word that I said, but I wanted them to mean so much more.

He caressed my cheek with the palm of his cold, hard hand. I couldn't break the stare that I held with him; his eyes looked calmer and sweeter tonight then they ever had before and they drew me in.

"Now, whenever I look up at the midnight sky and see my star, I'll think of you," I murmured quietly having mixed emotions.

I would look up at the stars now and find mine, and it would bring me happiness, but sadness at the same time. I would have something to remind me of Carlisle's love for me, but then I would also remember that we couldn't be together—for some unworldly reason of which he couldn't tell me.

He brought his face to mine again and kissed me shortly, but sweetly, so that it made me loose my train of thought.

We lay back down on the cool grass and I rested my head on his shoulder. He continued to stroke my curls smoothly as he hummed a sweet song to me. My eyes closed slowly at each passing tune and I must have drifted to sleep in his arms because the next thing I knew, I was cradled in his arms in the back of a vehicle.

"Carlisle?" I asked tiredly.

"I'm here Esme," He whispered as I felt his cool breath on me. I craned my head to look up at him not smiling.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep," I apologized.

"Oh Esme, don't be sorry. You're adorable when you sleep," He murmured as he pressed his cool lips to my neck. I smiled to myself and rested my head on his shoulder once again.

The car pulled to a stop a few minutes later. Carlisle thanked the driver and handed him some money, then carried me out of the car. My arms were still wrapped around his neck as he set me down cautiously and placed his hands on my waist

"Esme, this is the last time I will ever be able to do this. Once we walk inside those doors, we must pretend like none of this ever happened," He said seriously. I nodded sadly.

Carlisle leaned down to kiss me for the last time. His lips molded into mine as the previous kissed had, but there was something different about this one. The kiss was freer, deeper; his tongue brushed my bottom lip quickly and it wasn't as soft as the others had been. It was sweet and difficult to break away from, but we both managed to at the same time. We were both breathing heavily and he grasped my face with his cool hands.

"I love you so incredibly much, Esme Ann Platt. Never forget that," He whispered passionately.

"And I love you," I replied sincerely, holding back my tears, hoping to make the situation not as hard.

Carlisle lent me his arm and led me through the glass doors of the hospital. He made sure I was comfortable in my room and kissed my hand before leaving. I could only stare after him as he closed the door behind him. Then it really hit me, he was gone forever, and he was not coming back.

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**Yes, yes I know it's sad. But here is the good news: I'll be going through the Charles stuff pretty quickly, for your sake, but mostly mine as a writer. I can't stand him, but I will make him pretty nasty, even though I hate it. I have to make Esme be affected by his part in her life. I know it sucks, but Carlisle will eventually kick some butt. ; )**


	8. Chapter 8: Facing Reality

_"And there he goes so perfectly. The kind of flawless I wish I could be"_

**Chapter Eight: Facing Reality**

I collapsed upon my hospital bed and cried myself to sleep. Carlisle was gone and he was not coming back.

_"And I can't breathe. Without you but I have to. Breathe. Without you, but I have to…"_

I woke up the next morning all tired, depressed, and moody. Last night had been the best night of my life, and it was gone as soon as it came.

As the nurse came in to give me my breakfast I asked for a pen, paper, and envelope. She nodded and came a back a minute later with the materials.

Ignoring my breakfast, I started writing and writing and writing. Signed Esme Platt 1911. I folded the piece of paper and placed it in the envelope. The front read Dr. Carlisle Cullen. Then, I carefully sealed away my heart.

The next day was rather chaotic and busy. I was bathed (quite uncomfortably I might add) and my face was washed numerous times. I was dressed in the prettiest of outfits as my hair dried and light makeup was done. And as soon as my hair ribbon was tied, I was placed in a wheel chair. The nurses, having somewhere to go, informed me that they would be right back and that I should stay put. I nodded and watch them leave the room and noticed that the sky had darkened.

I played with the letter in my hand aimlessly and hummed a tune in my head. I looked around the room one last time and my eye caught my painting that I had completed for Carlisle. I panicked. What if he forgot to pick it up? I must tell him.

I wheeled myself out of my room and began frantically looking from room to room for Carlisle. Where is he? I rubbed my temple with my index finger and thumb to calm my raging headache.

"Esme?" It was him for sure. I looked up and saw him approaching me quickly. He looked a bit flustered.

Although I was excited to see him, I remained poised and let a small smile creep out.

"What are you doing out here?" He squatted in front of me, resting his elbows on his knees. He was holding a chart and I caught my name.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Your chart." He answered swiftly. "Esme, I thought that you had left." He looked concerned. Why ever for?

"No," I answered in confusion, "Are you all right, Dr. Cullen?" I asked professionally.

He shook his head. "Yes," He contradicted, clearly putting on a show for the bystanders.

"Why are you out here, Esme?"

My eyes turned down to the tightly held envelope in my hands.

"I wrote you a letter," I answered quietly.

He looked shocked. Before he had a chance to respond, someone walked up.

"Esme, where have you been? Let's go now!" My father ordered sternly.

I thrust the letter into his hands.

"Read it, please," I begged quietly with my eyes.

He nodded and mouthed 'I will' before my father came from behind the wheelchair and steered me towards the exit.

I turned around to see Carlisle's beautifully broken eyes watch me as I left.

"Esme!" My father scolded sternly and steered me back into my room. Why?

He shut the door and turned to face me. He was angry. I shook with fear.

"You idiotic girl!" He shouted.

"What? What'd I'd do?" I whimpered, cowering as he stomped towards me.

Whack! He had hit me across the face.

I held my hand to my cheek and used my other hand to back move the wheelchair towards the door.

"No!" He protested and stopped the wheelchair, his face inches away from mine.

"Father, please, I'm sorry," I cried quietly and I could feel the warmth of the water gather in my eyes.

The door opened then and Dr. Cullen entered.

"Oh Miss Platt you're still here." He smiled crookedly, but then his face went blank at the sight of me. No doubt, I'm sure. My face was red with worry and tears and one side of my face was already beginning to bruise. "What happened?" He dropped his chart automatically and rushed towards me, placing two cold fingers underneath my jaw. I whimpered so silently that I doubt Carlisle could hear it.

"What happened?" He whispered.

I glanced at my father, his face boiling with anger behind Dr. Cullen.

I knew I had to lie. "Nothing." What a terrible answer!

Carlisle turned to my father.

"Mr. Platt?" He asked calmly, but sternly.

"Hmm?" My dumb father mumbled.

"What happened to your daughter?" Carlisle inquired throwing his hands behind him; one of them was holding mine tightly.

"Nothing, Doctor, why would you ask that?" My father replied smugly.

Carlisle sighed, trying to control his temper. I don't know if he even had one.

"Esme's face is red and damp with tears, one side of her face is beginning to bruise, and she whimpered when I touched her." He let go of my hand and advanced towards my father. It was like a staring contest, only ten times more intense.

I held my breath and I'm pretty sure that Carlisle hadn't breathed since he had dropped his chart. When my father gave no answer, Carlisle was growing impatient.

"Mr. Platt, I am going to have to ask you to leave." I could hear the controlled anger in his voice.

"Why? She can go," My father protested manipulatively.

"I haven't discharged her yet."

"You fixed her!"

"Yes, I did," Carlisle's voice was rising. "But I did not fix her so that you could go and hurt her!"

"Are you accusing me of abusing my little girl, Doctor Cullen?" My father asked maliciously.

"Yes, I am," Carlisle, replied coolly. His golden eyes fixed in stone. Not once did he blink.

My father drew in a deep breath.

"Fine, I'll leave for home so that you can examine her," My father replied firmly. "But I did not hurt her and I will be taking her home later this evening." He strutted out of the room and I jumped as I heard the door bang.

Carlisle was the first to talk. "Esme, what on earth happened?" He knelt down beside me with concern flooding his voice.

I looked down and twiddled my fingers.

"Nothing that concerns you," I sniffed.

"Esme, I am your doctor, everything concerns me." He placed a loose curl behind my ear. "Please, I must know. Did he hurt you?" His face was a few inches away from mine, but I forced myself to avoid his gaze.

I didn't reply.

He leaned in closer and his lips brushed my bruised cheek. Not once, but repeatedly. Small, lingering kisses that caused me to involuntarily place my hands on the back of his neck and cock my head back as his mouth traveled down my neck. His hands groped my waist and searched for the buttons on the front of my dress. I moaned and guided his face back so that my mouth connected with his. The kiss was deep and full of passion. All walls were broken down and I placed my hands on his.

"No...NO!" He fought and backed away from me all so quickly.

"Carlisle?" My voice broke.

"I'm sorry, Esme, that was totally inappropriate." He looked pained and set his elbows on his knees as he buried his face in his hands. "I just…I just can't seem to control myself when I'm around you."

I wheeled towards him; my hair a bit disheveled and the front of my shirt wide open. I locked the door and tilted his chin up with my finger.

"Carlisle," I said calmly.

His head lifted from the cover of his hands and his eyes pierced mine.

"Yes?"

I couldn't believe what came out of my mouth next. "I want you to have me."

"No," He breathed and stood up abruptly as he paced the room hastily.

"Please," I begged. "I don't want anyone else, but you to be my first."

He chuckled frustrated. "What you are asking for is totally not suitable."

I drew my breath shocked with the realization. "You don't want me." I mumbled.

"No, no, Esme, it's not that. It could never be that." He squatted in front of me.

I sniffled. "I'm sorry. What a stupid idea. What was I thinking? I'm only sixteen, and who wants to make love to a silly old sixteen year old?" I cried quietly. "There's no passion for you, no fire."

It all happened so fast then. He grasped my face between his hands and his mouth overcame mine. The kiss was passionate and fiery. My nails raked the fabric of his doctor's coat and his strong hands came to rest on my waist once again. He pulled away this time slowly so that his teeth could lightly suck my bottom lip. It was eternal bliss and images flashed through my head. Images of him, Doctor Cullen and I growing old together; images of our children and for some strange reason I could see all of their faces.

"Did you feel it? The love I have for you, the fire that burns when I'm with you, and the passion that erupts? I sure felt it! And by God I know that I will never love another as much as I love you, Esme Platt," He breathed.

"But you can't take me away with you," I murmured the obvious. "Because you're too respectable a man."

He stood up and away from me; his hand to his forehead the other on his hip and nodded slowly.

"I can't destroy your reputation, what you have…" He said simply staring off into space.

"But you could take me away with you where no one knows who we are," I smiled excitedly. "And I have nothing! I'll always have nothing unless I'm with you."

"It's not that simple, Esme. Pieces of my past, present, and future are not something I want to put you through. You'd suffer because of me, of what I am. I'm hurting you right now because I fell in love you and we both have to pay that price," He strained.

"You could never be the cause of my suffering," I breathed heavily, holding back my tears. "Never! So don't you dare say that Carlisle Cullen."

"But I do say that because I love you. Please, accept it and go on to live a happy and normal life. You cannot live a fantasy." He started pacing the room again.

"Then let's make our relationship a reality. Let's live a reality, a true love story, one with a happy ending, and wonderful words," I smiled at my rant, but my smile disappeared just as quickly as it came.

Carlisle placed his hand over his face and shook with quiet sobs. He quieted and turned to squat down in front of me. The most beautifully calm expression upon his pale face.

"Not everything ends like it does in books, Esme. You can't make a fairytale a reality no matter how hard you try." He wiped away a tear that was running down my face.

"I love you, Esme, but I can't pull you into hell with me. Not any of God's angels should be punished for a another's wrongdoing," He gave me a faint smile and walked out of the room and out of my life.

"But you're one the Lord's angels too," I murmured. My fantasy, my reality was gone.

_"And he's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar. The only one who's got enough of me to break my heart"_

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_So how was it? This chapter totally turned out different then how I thought it would. But I thought it turned out all right. R&R. I'd love to read your feedback. =)_

_I do NOT own the lyrics in quotes. Those belong to the wonderful Taylor Swift._


	9. Chapter 9: A Wedding is Given

_**This is a much racier Chapter than I anticipated, therefore, I am rating it M. A summary of this Chapter will be on my profile page for the readers who do feel comfortable reading this much detail or should not read this much detail. Decide for yourself.** _

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**Chapter Nine: A Wedding is Given**

**_Three months two weeks and four days._ **

It only was three months two weeks and four days that I last saw Carlisle. And on that same bittersweet evening. That same dark evening where my father hit me and Carlisle rescued me, would be the very evening that I would be offered a proposal of marriage. Not by Carlisle, but by the one man that I detested as much as I did my father, the one man who would haunt my dreams at night, who would rob me of my integrity, my dignity, my self-confidence. _Charles Evenson._

"Esme Platt, will you marry me?"

I should have seen this coming. It was so obvious! I knew that my parents always favored him, Charles Evenson, but I sure didn't. It should have been Carlisle marrying me, Carlisle proposing, but he was too good a man to do so and I would never blame him for not taking me away with him. It was a hopeless, romantic thought anyway. Such events only happen in books where reality is replaced with fantasy and wonderful, romanticized characters. Sometimes I wish I were a character in those books. That I could escape the realms of reality for the adventure of fantasy. But that could never be now for I was doomed to a life with a man I detested and without another who I was sure would find a more suitable lady than myself.

"Now Esme," My mother burst into my room with a few maids trailing behind her with yards of varying fabrics, "I have many choices of colors and designs for you..."

"_Hello, I'm Dr, Carlisle Cullen. I think that we'll become good friends Ms. Platt so I insist you call me by my first name, Carlisle," Dr. Cullen greeted me warmly and flashed a twinkling smile at me._

"Esme!" My mother's shriek snapped me out of my memory. "Pick one!"

I sighed. Life goes on.

I said, "I do." And we, Charles and I, were bound together in matrimony in the eyes of the law, the audience, the Lord, but never in my heart.

I could never be happy again now, could I?

Charles led me away from the cheering crowd and up the stairs to our new room in our new and grand house. He shut the door quietly behind us and I walked towards the bed post and placed my hand on the wooden post for balance. My back was facing him, but I could feel is eyes scanning my body. I almost shook with fear.

How could this have gone so wrong? I was supposed to be overcome with joy, not deepened with sadness.

"Esme." Arms wrapped tightly around my waist as Charles slowly undid my laces with his teeth. Animal. The dress slipped off my body in one swoop and I stood in my lacy undergarments. His lips found my neck and I winced at the feel of them. Charles turned my around and pressed me up against the nearest wall as his lips found mine, his tongue swept in and I almost choked. His large, rough hands came to rest on my breasts. This, I was definitely not ready for.

"Charles."

"Hmmm," His lips trailed down my neck and to my bosom.

"Please stop," I begged lightly.

"Stop?" He pulled away to look at me with a smirk pasted across his face. "I don't think I can."

His face lay in between my breasts.

"I'm not ready. I'm nervous," I spluttered.

His smirk turned nastier.

"Too bad!" He spat and ripped off my undergarments so that they lay in shreds upon the ground.

"Charles, please!"

He ignored me and undid his pants and undergarments till he was as stark naked as I was.

His hand traveled down the cleft between my legs.

"N-no!" I cried. He stopped my mouth with a harsh kiss.

I could feel him hard against me.

"Oh Lord," He groaned and plunged into me and I cried out.

"Oh yes!" He cried. "That's what I like to hear. Your cry out in the darkness. Knowing that I'm responsible for that."

He grabbed my wrists and pinned them above me as he rode harder and harder. Tears streamed down my face. This was supposed to be Carlisle making love to me, not Charles.

"Carlisle!" I cried out involuntarily.

"What?"

Even that cry out to Carlisle didn't make him stop.

"Come to me, Esme! Come! Now!"

And I yielded to him reluctantly. I couldn't help it. My arms fell around him and my head came to rest on his shoulder.

He dragged me to our bed and lay on me and sunk his teeth into my neck.

"Oh!" His mouth engulfed mine as our legs entwined.

"Kiss me," He ordered. "Love me. Touch me so I know you're there." He taunted.

I did as ordered. He pulled me on top of him and I placed rough kisses all over his sweaty body as he clutched my buttocks. He rolled on top of me again and I raked his back with my nails in anger, not as a sign of passion--although he took it that way.

"Yes, oh yes, Esme."

It was only the beginning.

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**So I know that you all probably hate me right now. Not only is Charles a jerk, but this writing is a bit...well...inappropriate for the younger readers so that is why I have posted a summary of what happens in this chapter on my profile. I just wanted to make Charles as nasty as I could so that you would love Carlisle that much more.=)All in all, the Charles stuff will be over with asap. **

**R&R =)**


	10. Chapter 10: Appearance

**Thanks for all your wonderful reviews on the last chapter. I always appreciate a good, thoughtful review. =) It always makes my day.**

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**Chapter Ten: Appearance  
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_December 1914._

Charles and I had gone to many pre-Christmas parties. He was a well-known and respected lawyer throughout Ohio and I had to deal with that fake image. It was difficult pasting a smile on my face whenever we were in public. Whenever Charles found something unacceptable about my behavior the punishment was a beating or a rape. I hated the petty upper class society that would poke and prod into my private life, asking what happened to my face where bruises seemed to appear quite regularly. I would constantly say that I had fallen down the stairs or off of a horse and the rumors came to be that I was a clumsy, silly wife who was lucky to marry such an honored and wealthy man like Charles.

Carlisle didn't pass through my mind much anymore. I was forcing myself to forget him since his memory was too painful to bear. But when he did, it was a breath of fresh air, a bittersweet flashback of that time where I was treated as an equal and loved for who I am as a person. I sometimes hoped that I would see him one last time, but I knew that was impossible. He was somewhere else now. He told me that day in the hospital that he would be leaving for another job, another opportunity. And that was that.

I picked up my copy of Pride and Prejudice that Carlisle had given to me. It was worn and the cover was almost torn off. I had read it over a dozen times. I flipped through the pages catching glimpses of dumb phrases spoken by Mrs. Bennett, witty comments by Lizzie, and the wonderful lines of Mr. Darcy. If only life were like this.

"Mrs. Evenson?"

Oh. Try Mrs. Cullen or Miss Platt at least!

"Yes?" I turned around on my chair to face my personal maid.

"Your husband is ready to leave now for the Wilson's dinner party," She told me in her meek voice.

"Thank you, Mary." I smiled.

I hid my book away under the loose floorboards of the tearoom and headed downstairs for another night of dancing and false smiles.

We arrived at the party right on time and entered into a room full of upper-class society. Women were dressed in the finest apparel and men were put together in expensive tuxes with big fat smiles pasted across their faces to make friends for their benefit with their wealth and investments.

All sorts of people were there—including my parents unfortunately—who spotted us right away and came to join Charles and I.

"Esme, Charles, how are you this evening?" My mother's sweet voice asked.

"Absolutely wonderful Mrs. Platt and what a pleasure to see you." Charles kissed my mother's hand and shook my father's.

"Esme?"

"Hmmm?"

"Oh for goodness sake, dear, after all this time and no manners. What have we taught you?" My mother barked.

"I'm sorry Mum. I'm well, and yourself?" I smiled.

"Quite."

I nodded and smiled lightly.

As dinner was served we all sat at our designated table. I was of course with Charles and my parents, but a few others joined as well. Charles joined in on a topic of government in America while I let my eyes wander aimlessly.

"I'm sorry that I am late, gentlemen, but I fear my plane was delayed a tad longer than it was suppose to arrive."

I looked up immediately. It couldn't be! Dr. Carlisle Cullen was sitting right across from me at the circular dinner table.

My breath caught in my throat. Why was he here?

"No worries, no worries, good sir," Mr. Wilson a friend of Charles' stood up and reached across the table to shake Carlisle's hand. "Gentlemen and Mrs. Evenson this is Dr. Carlisle Cullen a good friend of mine who works at the finest hospital in Chicago. He comes by for a visit now and then at my parties."

I didn't even care to notice that I was the only woman at this table.

Carlisle flashed a brilliant smile at everyone including me. Put together in a black tux and bow tie he looked more handsome than he's ever looked before. His eyes gleamed gold and his blonde hair was a shade lighter and quite styled for the evening. His smile was as beautiful as his respectable laughter, but he didn't seem to truly be enjoying himself.

Charles, always wanting to make a new business venture, stood up and shook Carlisle's hand congenially. "Dr. Cullen, I'm Charles Evenson and this is my wife Esme."

I didn't move. Charles nudged me in the foot, quite harshly I might add. I slowly stood up.

"Pleasure to meet you, Car…Dr. Cullen," I stammered.

He took my hand and placed a kiss upon it. His eyes met mine and I froze.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Evenson." He didn't stammer a bit and seemed so cool and collected.

Charles grabbed my arm and pulled me back into my chair.

"Sit down and behave," He hissed in my ear.

I glanced down at my hands then back up at Carlisle's face. Lord, I was trying to forget about him, about us, about what we could have had, about what we _should_ have had, and he had to come back and make me remember all over again.

Carlisle entered the conversation with all the other men at the table, but I just watched him like the foolish girl that I was. I held back the tears from clouding my eyes and played idly with my napkin in my lap. This couldn't be him; it had to be a nightmare, a terrible, terrible nightmare or a really bittersweet dream.

He would glance at me out of the corner of his eye every now and then, but nothing more. It was proper and well covered.

It seemed like dinner went on for hours until the dessert round came in. I didn't pick up my fork, but continued running ideas, reasons, and explanations through my head of how this could happen. Out of all the bloody friends that I knew Carlisle had in the United States of America, one just had to be an acquaintance with someone tied with Charles.

"Esme," Charles exited the conversation briefly and whispered in my ear, "you haven't touched your dessert and you're hardly making much conversation. How rude of you."

I looked down at my napkin again.

He snatched it away.

I jumped.

"I'm sorry Charles," I apologized in a normal voice. "I'm just not much for talking tonight."

"Well make yourself say something intellectual. If that's even possible."

"Oh come now my dear, you must have something to say about our form of government in this country," Mr. Wilson spoke up.

"What's your opinion on the way we run our country?" Another asked.

"Well, if you all really care to know…" I started.

"Yes, yes," Mr. Wilson pressed.

"Well, I rather favor this form of government we call a democracy. I admire that our Founding Fathers set up a system where most are all equal. We have our liberties, our rights—most of us anyway—and freedom of speech," I spoke clearly.

Another man at the table cleared his throat. "So you find no fault with our form of government?"

"Well, on the whole I admire it, but…" I hesitated. It was completely out of place a woman to be saying this. "But I hope that one day everyone will be able to vote. Every citizen of United States, no matter of what race, gender, or color they are."

All mouths were hanging open and the most baffled expressions were upon the men's faces. Everyone that is, except for Carlisle. He smiled genuinely at me with his hands folded and elbows propped in front of him. I almost smiled at him, but on the contrary, Charles was not pleased.

"Esme!" He stood up abruptly and grabbed my arm, forcing me to stand as well. "Come with me."

I glanced at Carlisle and saw him eying me with his face in some twisted form of worry as Charles hustled me away.

"Charles, please, you're hurting me and people are watching." I almost tripped over my own footing.

He acted as though he didn't hear me and led me out onto the open aired balcony lit with candles. He shut the doors and stomped over to my quivering figure.

"How dare you!" He bellowed.

No one could hear us. The dinner music was drowning out even Carlisle's anger.

"What?" I kept my voice calm, but shaky.

"How dare you suggest such a thing? Women voting! Ha! And I bet you would one day hope in your fairytale imagination that Indians and Negros could one day vote too," He mimicked.

"Charles, they merely asked for my opinion and I gave them my answer. I was honest," I defended pointlessly.

"That's no place for a lady, damn you!" And I felt the string of a rough hand against my face. He grasped my jaw with his hand and threw it to the side.

"Charles, p-please…"

He turned around and started leaving.

"You are to stay out here until I come and get you. Do you understand?" He thrust his finger at me, his face burning with fury.

"But it's snowing, Charles. It's freezing." I wrapped my arms around my body for warmth. I was only in an emerald green evening dress and heels.

"Maybe you can take this time to think about how a lady is looked upon in society. A respectable wife is a wife that keeps quiet and does not speak her mind." He walked towards me again and I cowered.

"You do that one more time and your punishment will be severe," He threatened. "And when we return home, I'll be expecting an apology." He smirked and I knew that he meant more than just a "I'm sorry."

He strolled away quickly and shut and locked the door to behind him.

I sunk into a corner and cried. Cried until my tears felt like ice themselves. I hid my pathetic face between my knees and held myself tighter for warmth. I don't know how long I sat there. It could have been minutes, an hour. Then a cloak of some sort was tightened around me and I was helped to stand. I looked up and it was Carlisle.

My knees buckled. Not from the cold, but from the events of the evening.

He picked me up in his arms and took me through another door, away from the party without a word.

We seemed to be in a dark room lit only with a single candle. Carlisle set me down and built a fire in the fireplace not speaking.

"C-Carlisle," I cried, still shaking from the coldness of the winter.

I reached out to touch him. He ignored me.

"Carlisle, please look at me," I begged.

He hastily finished the fire and it was crackling bright and warming the room almost immediately. He then walked to the other side of the room and sat down with his back against the wall and his body facing me.

"Carlisle," I repeated again and struggled to stand.

He was by my side in a flash and sat me back down. I wouldn't let go of him, but he pried my fingers loose.

His face was straight and emotionless, mine was, well, the complete opposite.

I reached out my hand again and stroked his face. It was as cool and hard as I remembered. I trembled.

Then I couldn't hold it in any longer. I broke down and the tears flowed freely from my face. I sobbed loudly and his arms wrapped around me. Two dark shadows in the middle of the night, pressed together for comfort.

After my tears had slowed and my breathing had calmed to a regular pace, I spoke.

"Carlisle, please, say something."

He kept his lips pressed tightly together as though he was biting his tongue.

I waited patiently, but then after moments of quiet, I couldn't hold back any longer. I pressed my lips to his and my shaky hands went to lie on the sides of his face as I deepened the kiss. His mouth opened for me and his tongue swept in sending sensations throughout my body as his hands came to rest on my waist and then slowly slid to my hips.

"N-no!" I pushed away from him.

He was frozen, so was I.

"Esme," He said with agony.

"I…I don't know what happened, I'm sorry," I mumbled. "I must go. My husband will be angry if he finds me not where he left me."

I scurried up to my feet and walked over to Carlisle to hand the cloak back.

He shook his head, "Keep it."

"No, Charles will wonder where I got it from," I answered placing the cloak back into Carlisle's arms.

I turned away.

"Wait!" He called.

I stopped in my tracks.

"I owe you an explanation," He said simply and stood up.

"No, you don't…"

"Yes, I do. I can only feel how you're feeling right now and it's awful. I was suppose to be gone, away from here three years ago," He explained.

"It's fine really." I was in mood to talk right now. I didn't even have the slightest idea of how to react.

"Please Esme, I…"

I turned around.

"Carlisle, I don't need to hear it!" I sobbed. He was stunned. "I don't want to hear it." I whispered.

Dead silence.

"I thought I had gotten over you, or at least I tried," I told him. "So I knew that if I ever saw you again I would be prepared. Or at least I thought so. I thought I would be able to bear it…but I can't." My chin trembled. "I promised myself when I was sixteen that I would love you forever, but I also thought that that was silly too. It's not."

"Oh Esme."

"Now, please," I begged. "I need to go. I'm already in trouble as it is."

Carlisle sighed and started towards me.

"Let me go first," He mumbled in that angelic voice. "So I won't have to see you suffer anymore."

I nodded.

He kissed the side of my mouth. "I'm sorry to ruin your evening."

He walked out.

"You didn't." I murmured, but he was already gone.

Charles found me outside just where he had left me. I was shivering with cold and he led me under the covering to freshen me up.

"My, you are beautiful." He licked his lips as though I was something to eat.

I pouted. A silly expression, but I didn't care.

"Now Esme," He said as he ran his fingers through my hair, "is that anyway to look at your husband?" He teased.

I didn't answer.

"Come now. Let's dance," He placed my arm in his and led me back inside and onto the dance floor where the waltz had just started.

It was difficult to move. My brain didn't want to send messages to my feet to move. So I lazily followed Charles' lead. My head spun and I felt weak. I was not fully warm yet and the feeling was just beginning to reenter my body.

Then as if some miracle occurred, Charles stopped and for whatever reason I wasn't sure. My vision was blurring.

"Yes you may," I heard Charles say and another figure took me into his light grasp and we continued dancing again.

I squinted my eyes and made out…Carlisle! Damn him! I was angry, but I couldn't help, but smile as soon as my face was unfrozen. He was just the man I wanted, and didn't want to see.

"My lady," He smiled down upon me.

"Carlisle, as much as I love dancing with you, I'm not sure how much longer I can stand up. And it's not just the result of being stuck in the cold, your appearance has baffled me completely and I don't know how to react," I said quietly as the music continued.

"Esme, I'm not just dancing with you because I want to—although I do immensely—it's just that…"

His words seemed to slur together and the circles we were spinning in, no matter how graceful a dancer Carlisle was, seemed to blur and I could not see straight. My head was spinning uncontrollably and I could not form a sentence, let alone a word.

"Car…." My arms were weak; I had no feeling in them. My legs were inaudible and I was messing up my steps. I couldn't function.

And then I let go of all feeling and fell into Carlisle's arms.

* * *

_This is the link to Esme's Evening dress. Only picture it as an emerald green._ .

_So all in all, I hope you enjoyed the Chapter. Didn't think you'd be seeing Carlisle again for a while, did ya? lol. Well anyways, as always, Read&Review about anything--but by this time you would have already read so now you just have to click the little review button and tell me what you thought of the Chapter. Adios! =)  
_


	11. Chapter 11: Broken Hearted

**Thanks to all my reviewers, especially EliseShaw who mentioned that she growled at the computer screen when Carlisle left. It made me laugh. =)**

**So I am writing Chapter Ten from Carlisle's POV. I thought it'd be cool to read what he was thinking when he first saw Esme after 3 years.**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Broken Hearted**

_December 1914_

Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Five seconds. That's it. That is the only time that I allow myself to allow the fear and the pressure to sink in, and then I calm myself and fix the problem. That was how I handled my life as a vampire, even as a human. I let five seconds of fear come into me when I made a mistake in surgery, when I attempted to save a life by means of much risk, when I was reprimanded by the my father. In most things, I only let five seconds overtake me, but when it came to her, it was hard to allow the fear, the sadness to only sink in for only five seconds. I wanted it to go longer, or better yet, I wanted the fear, the sadness to be taken over by joy and triumph.

I have that letter that she gave me three years ago on my desk underneath countless papers and other forms of chaos. I try not to read it anymore so that I can try to get over her, but I still read it sometimes…as a memory, a reminder. It was a long letter. One that was written in rather beautifully small cursive. It's hard to forget her, but what's harder is living everyday alone.

"Dr. Cullen, a young girl named Evelyn Pratt has a broken leg in curtain three, could you check up on her and sign off for me?" Medical student Marie Young held a chart in front of me.

"Yes," I was grateful for her interruption. I took the chart and drew the curtain.

There was a young girl around the age of fourteen, with big blue eyes and curly dark hair. My breath caught in my throat.

"Esme," I mouthed so low that no human could possibly hear me.

But it wasn't her, just a striking resemblance. I ran a hand through my hair and sighed.

"Anything wrong, Doctor Cullen?" Marie tilted her head in curiosity.

I stared at the girl. Esme. Evelyn. Esme. Evelyn. Back and forth time flew by. Past. Present. Past. Present. I cleared my head.

"Not particularly, Marie," I turned to her and handed her back the chart. "I'm sorry, I have to go. I'm sure you covered everything, but please have another Doctor sign off on Miss Pratt."

"Okay, Doctor Cullen," Marie smiled up at me in her normal friendly manner and went off to find another doctor.

"I hope your leg feels better," I said to Evelyn.

* * *

_July 1911_

_Dear Carlisle,_

_These past couple of days has been the best of life. You have been so kind to me and I could never thank you enough for loving me and allowing me love you in return. I am going to miss our conversations, laughs, and the comforts that we've shared, but I think what I am going to miss the most is you. You made me realize that I can be loved and that I am a good person. You helped me to see the beauty of the world from a new perspective, which I never thought possible. You reflect the new Esme Ann Platt. The one with more confidence than before, more pride, more love and I owe that all to you._

_I wish with all my heart that you could take me away with you. I could care less about my reputation. At first I didn't understand why you wouldn't take me away with you. But then I realized that on top of being a wonderful man, you also have a reputation to withhold and I apologize greatly for not understanding that until now._

_You mean the world to me and I will never forget you. I know that the woman who will one day capture your heart will be worthy of you. I know that you'll go on to have a wonderful life full of prosperity, love, and happiness._

_I love you very much, Dr. Carlisle Cullen._

_Love,_

_Esme_

I set the letter down carefully. As soon as I had seen that young girl with the broken leg a few minutes ago, I know I had to leave and re-read the letter. Every time I read it I shook with sobs, but this time I held them in and I tried my best to remain strong. I couldn't go on living this life full of regret. Yes…I almost regretted not taking her away, butI just couldn't doom her to a life of what I am. It wouldn't be right.

She was wrong though. I didn't take her away with me because of my reputation or because I was too good of a man. If the circumstances were different, if I were human, I would have stolen her away the second I found out she loved me. I could care less about my reputation and pride. I love her. That should be all that matters…in a normal life.

* * *

Riding first class is always one of the best parts of being a doctor. Not to say that saving lives isn't, it is, but it's rather enjoyable to have a nicer flight, especially if where you are going is not a destination that you prefer.

It was very kind of Mr. Wilson to invite me back to Columbus for a Christmas/Dinner party with his wealthy associates of diverse job positions. Those are not always my favorite gathering due to the idea that there is food and I have to pretend I am eating the food, or forcing myself to take a couple bites. Add on to the fact that many of these parties include upper class snobs that have nothing else better to do than poke and prod into my private life. Sometimes I feel like an outsider because I don't fit with my social class, or anywhere for that matter.

"Something to drink, sir?" A flight attendant approached me with a smile.

"No thank you, Ms," I said politely.

She almost seemed flustered for a moment, but continued on down the aisle with her cart.

I pulled out a book from my carry on bag and open it to the marked page and began reading. Laughter came from the middle aisle nearest me. Two children, a boy and a girl around the ages of four and seven were happily getting settled in their seats between their two fairly young parents. The father pulled out a large wonderfully colored storybook and he and the mother began reading it to the children with enthusiasm and energy. God, how I wanted that. To have a family; to grow old with a partner, my soul mate, my wife; to watch our children grow and prosper into good people and loving parents. I wanted to create lasting memories and adventures, cry real tears when I was sad, and be comforted when I was lonely. That might be selfish, but after being alone for over two hundred years, you begin to feel things that you've never felt before, things you never imagined you could feel. But this is my life and I need to keep pushing forward and living day by day as it comes. And that was that.

* * *

I was a half an hour late for the Wilson Party when I stepped through their large front doors. The main room was empty and quiet as their butler greeted me and took my coat and hat. I nodded in thanks and helped myself through the doors that led to the dining room and the dance hall.

Multiple scents hit me as I opened the doors, but one in particular smelled very appealing, but I couldn't put my finger on it. The room was bustling with the wealthy stuck in conversation as dinner was served and the musicians played their humble, sweet tunes.

I picked out Wilson in the middle of room and knew that out of all the people here, he is the only one that I would be the most comfortable sitting by.

"I'm sorry that I am late gentlemen, but I fear my plane was delayed a tad longer than it was suppose to arrive," I said cordially as I approached them.

The scent was the strongest in this spot and I scanned the people at the table. And there she was, staring at me with her dark eyes as wide as can be. Her face was the most stunned that I have ever seen on a person and she almost looked hurt.

My breath caught in my throat. Why was she here?

"No worries, no worries, good sir," Mr. Wilson stood up and reached across the table to shake my hand as I took my seat across from her. "Gentlemen and Mrs. Evenson this is Dr. Carlisle Cullen a good friend of mine who works at the finest hospital in Chicago. He comes by for a visit now and then at my parties."

Evenson. Mrs. Evenson is she now? I could feel jealously burn inside me, but I would only have it in me for five seconds. Five seconds was all I was giving it. I made the choice not to be with her and I hoped that she was married to someone who was just shy of deserving her.

Act calm and collected, Cullen, I reminded myself over and over, calm and collected. I flashed a smile at everyone, but let my gaze linger a second longer on her. My she looked lovely tonight! Her dress was an emerald green and went perfectly with the white of her skin and the scarlet that appeared to be darkening in her flawless cheeks.

I quickly chimed in respectfully with the other men in conversation to keep my mind off of the beautiful woman sitting right across from me.

Then the man seated next to her, her husband I presume, stood up and shook my hand with a business smile. "Dr. Cullen, I'm Charles Evenson and this is my wife Esme."

She seemed frozen for a second as I stood up to re-introduce myself. Something brought her abruptly out of her trance and she stood up quickly.

"Pleasure to meet you, Car…Dr. Cullen," She stumbled over her words.

I chuckled quietly to myself and kissed her hand gracefully, allowing my lips to delay a second longer.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Evenson." I didn't stumble over my words as she did, but I had the most difficultly calling her 'Mrs. Evenson.' I wanted her to be mine.

Mr. Evenson grabbed her arm and pulled her back into her seat. I frowned.

"Sit down and behave," He spoke harshly in her ear.

I almost growled. How dare he speak to her in that way. Before I completely lost control of my senses I turned my eyes away from her and rejoined the conversation, or I at least tried to. I would glance at Esme out of the corner of my eye and watched as she played with her hands in her lap. Old habit. I almost smiled. She did that in the hospital too.

I still couldn't believe that she was here and married to that scoundrel. She matured beautifully. Even though she was only sixteen when I met her and very pretty at that, her face had taken a tighter shape now, her cheekbones were more defined, and she looked like she had dropped around ten pounds. She was a little too skinny in my professional and subjective opinion. As gorgeous as she was, she looked sick and unhealthy.

"Esme," Charles put his mouth to her ear, "you haven't touched your dessert and you're hardly making much conversation. How rude of you." He whispered roughly and he rested his hand on…well I wasn't sure what because of the table, but she struggled in her seat uncomfortably.

I wanted to punch him. No one should speak to a lady that way or touch her like that in public.

She looked down again and he snatched the napkin away from her petite hands. She jumped a bit, startled.

I glared at him.

"I'm sorry Charles," She apologized. "I'm just not much for talking tonight."

"Well make yourself say something intellectual. If that's even possible." He sneered.

"Oh come now my dear, you must have something to say about our form of government in this country," Mr. Wilson leaned forward.

Esme looked up.

"What's your opinion on the way we run our country?" Another asked.

"Well, if you really care to know…" She was adorable when sheepish.

"Yes, yes," Mr. Wilson eagerly replied.

Esme placed her hands on the table and I could see her confidence appearing.

"Well," She began. " I rather favor this form of government we call a democracy. I admire that our Founding Fathers set up a system where most are all equal. We have our liberties, our rights—most of us anyway—and freedom of speech." Her opinion flowed flawlessly and I couldn't help, but placed my folded hands under my chin and admire her.

Another man at the table cleared his throat. "So you find no fault with our form of government?" He questioned.

Esme looked down at her hands. No, Esme, I told her mentally, don't loose your confidence now. You were glowing.

"Well," She began, "on the whole I admire it, but…" Hesitation. "But I hope that one day everyone will be able to vote. Every citizen of the United States, no matter of what race, gender, or color they are."

I wanted to clap for her. Everyone wore the most shocked expressions, but Charles' was one of anger and humiliation. This was totally out of a woman's place to be speaking of such things. My eyes met hers and I smiled at her reassuringly. She looked as though she might smile back, but one glance at Charles quickly erased that attempt. I had a feeling something awful was going to happen.

"Esme! Come with me." Charles stood abruptly and grabbed her arm. It took all the strength I had not to take her back with me and praise her for her bravery.

She glanced at me, her face covered in fear as he hustled her away.

"Charles, please you're hurting me and people are watching," Her reserved cry diminished as Charles dragged her away from the crowd.

I clenched the woodwork underneath the table so that the dents of my fingers were imprinted. Calm yourself, Carlisle, the five seconds have passed. I would go to her in a few minutes and see how she was doing.

The remaining men at the table looked after them quietly and then began talking about her. Have they no respect for a lady?

"Charles is a good man," one said. "He is never angry."

"I can't believe that she spoke that way and to a table of well-respected men!" One said harshly. "Woman voting! Ha!"

"Yes, yes and she hardly made much conversation before. She just sat there and was silent," Another chimed in.

What was this? A women's gossip circle? How could these men be raised in the most wealth and still have no manners whatsoever?

I couldn't hear anymore of this. Esme was not like this. They hadn't even taken the time to know her. How dare they even think these thoughts?

"Excuse me, gentlemen, but I believe I must retire to the men's lavatory," I excused myself. They didn't even notice that I had said anything.

I followed the path that Charles had led Esme on and her scent grew more distinct as I came to the balcony.

I peered outside and noticed a figure huddled in the corner as the snow came down.

I sneaked outside onto the balcony, grabbing a cloak off of an empty chair as I walked quickly. It was her. I knew it was. I wrapped the cloak around her gently and helped her to stand. Her weary eyes looked up at me and then she collapsed.

I picked up her up in arms and glanced hastily around the balcony for another doorway. Ah! There was another door built in the house's wall that I opened easily and walked into.

I set her down on the floor and went to build a fireplace. I knew I had to stay the farthest I could away from her. She was married and I couldn't do anything inappropriate.

"Carlisle," She spoke after moments of silence, "please…look at me."

I ignored her and got the fire started. No, I told myself, don't go near her. You mustn't. I sat down at the other side of the room and propped my knees up so that my elbows rested on them.

"Carlisle," She repeated as her voice quivered and attempted to stand.

No! I thought in my mind, but I had to go over to her or else she would collapse again.

I took her in my arms and sat her back down before I could kiss her. I pried my fingers loose and she looked ashamed.

Oh God, Esme, don't look like that it will just make me want you more. I kept my face straight and illegible. She couldn't see how I was feeling. But her on the other hand, she looked as though she would burst into tears and she very well did.

I wrapped my arms tighter around her and she sobbed and whispered things too quiet for her to hear in her ear. It soothed me and kept my mind on other things appropriate.

I wanted to take her right there. Make her mine and give her all that I had, body and soul, but I knew I couldn't. It wouldn't be right. Oh, but how badly I wanted it—to take the pain away, to give her everything. I could feel the want in the pit of my stomach. I bit my lip and held my tongue. Talking would just make things harder so I brought her tighter to me, feeling every line of her frail body. Two dark figures pressed together for comfort in the middle of a cold night.

Esme's quiet sobbing diminished over the next few minutes and I could hardly contain myself from shaking with anger. How dare anyone cause her this much pain! It was insufferable.

"Carlisle, please, say something." Although her voice was meek I could hear now that her shaking had stopped and her voice was even.

I couldn't say anything. I would bite my tongue because if I spoke, I was sure I would say something I'd regret. Esme pulled away out of my grasp and gave me one long look before her hands grasped my face and her lips were on mine. Before I knew it, I was entranced in her, in the kiss and I opened my mouth for her and my tongue grazed her bottom lip. I knew that I should definitely not be doing this, but I couldn't help myself. It had been three years since I last kissed her and I wasn't going to stop now. I laid my hands on her waist and they slowly slid down to her hips, gripping them tightly.

She pulled away immediately.

"N-no!" The look on her face was one of pure terror for the smallest second and then she just looked embarrassed.

Did she think I was going to hurt her? How could she think that? I knew that I shouldn't have done anything. I knew I'd regret it, not kissing her of course, just the pain I'd cause.

"Esme." The pain was obvious in my voice.

She shook her head tediously.

"I…I don't know what happened, I'm sorry," She apologized, avoiding my eyes. "I must go." She stood up quickly. "My husband will be angry if he finds me not where he left me."

Oh yes, I thought angrily. Out in the cold to freeze to death. That place is just dandy!

I stood up and she thrust the cloak back in to my arms.

"Keep it."

"No, Charles will wonder where I got it from." She told me.

She turned to go.

No. I was not letting her go without an explanation of why I was here.

"Wait!"

She stopped almost immediately.

Come on, Cullen, it's now or never.

"I owe you an explanation," I said the briefest of terms.

"No you don't…" She began to protest.

"Yes, I do. I can only feel how you're feeling right now and it's awful." I swallowed nervously. "I was supposed to be gone, away from here three years ago."

"It's fine really."

I knew that with that unemotional voice she did not want to be a part of this conversation. Who could blame her? She was hurt, confused, and the man that she loves had just made an appearance in her life.

"Please Esme. I…"

She turned to face me with tears streaming down her flawless face.

"Carlisle, I don't need to hear it!"

My heart broke for the second time.

"I don't want to hear it," She whispered.

I ran my hands through my hair, debating whether I should take her in my arms and love her right there on the cold floor.

Damn it Carlisle! I screamed in my head. Don't let your emotions control you. Be reasonable.

"I thought I had gotten over you, or at least I tried," She confessed.

Oh Esme, don't tell me this. I can't bear it.

"So I knew that if I ever saw you again I would be prepared. Or at least I thought so. I thought I would be able to bear it…but I can't." She tried to control her tears and took a deep breath before continuing. "I promised myself that when I was sixteen that I would love you forever, but I also thought that that was silly too. It's not."

I took a deep, unnecessary breath. Everything that she had said had made complete sense to me and it hurt that she felt the same way.

"Oh Esme," I sighed.

"Now, please," She started towards the door. "I need to go. I'm already in trouble as it is."

I started towards her.

"Let me go first. So I won't have to see you suffer anymore."

She nodded slightly.

I leaned forward and kissed the corner of her mouth.

"I'm sorry to ruin your evening," I apologized and walked out.

I heard her murmur, "You didn't."

And as soon as I was out that door, I sat down on the pavement and sobbed because I knew I had.

* * *

**Heya so I know that at the end of the last chapter Esme had just fainted when she and Carlisle were dancing. I decided not to put that part in Carlisle's POV because it didn't seem to flow. I don't really have an explanation as to why it didn't seem to flow, but it just didn't. Haha. So I'm sorry if you wanted that part in Carlisle's POV.**

**All in all, I hope you liked this Chapter. Be sure to tell me if you thought Carlisle was in character or not. This was such a hard chapter to write not only because it was so emotional, but also because Carlisle was harder to write then I thought.**

**R&R. It means a lot!**


	12. Part Two

**~Part Two~**

_Thoughts_

_February 1915_

Charles was sent off. The Great War, the First World War they called it. Everyone said so. It was violent, dirty, and terrible. That would be good for Charles—to have a taste of his own medicine, but yet, I found myself retracting that statement. No matter how much I wished him gone, I could not wish him dead. It seemed a sin to wish someone dead and I simply couldn't do it. My conscious tugged at me encouraging me to wish that. _Look at what he's done to you, it would say. He deserves it, every last bit. He's hurt you emotionally and physically. He can never be forgiven. So why not wish for it, hope for it, and pray for it? Pray for his death for he deserves it entirely._

But I couldn't. I could wish him gone, away from me, for an eternity…a lifetime, but I could not wish him dead. For that would not be me. That would not redeem my pain, my emotional core.

He was angry when he received his letter that ordered him to be drafted, and that anger was put unto me. And for some illogical reason: I believed him. I couldn't explain, but yet I knew that it had been my fault. Everything would always be my fault and so I did what I thought best: I jumped.

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_Part Two Chapter Twelve of Esme's Lullaby will be up asap. Here is just a short little doo dad =) of what will happen before Phase Two of Esme's life takes place._

_Please R&R although it is a short little thing. =)_


	13. Chapter 12: Contemplations

**Thank you to all of my reviewers for waiting so patiently. I know it's been soooooooooo long, but I've been extremely busy you have NOOO idea. So sorry again. I should be updating more frequently now. I love you guys =) **

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**~Part Two~**

**Chapter Twelve: Contemplations**

_November 1921_

Death is supposed to be peaceful. The outcome, I mean. Not all ways of dying are supposed to be restful, but as long as the outcome is painless I knew I'd be okay. That's what I'm feeling now. But maybe, maybe death is supposed to be painful. I committed a selfish act. Suicide is a selfish act, but if I leave no one behind who cares about me, then, is it really selfish?

I awoke with a pain surging through my body like fire when it hits oil. I grasped whatever I could, praying, wishing, begging for it to leave. I clenched something soft...like fabric, but...where was I? Surely this couldn't be Heaven. I was in too much pain. It must have been Hell. The Lord had punished me surely. For what? I tried to be good in my life, but now looking back, even through the pain, I had not been a good person. I had fallen in love with a man that could never be mine, I had not been a good wife to Charles and in turn got the punishments I deserved, I had killed a baby, my baby...somehow it must have been my fault, everything else was. Then I had committed suicide. Or I think I did. Either this was hell or some form of it because I could feel the sweat running down in streams upon my face and the nails digging into my skin at a sheer attempt to lessen the pain. But it didn't. Nothing could. I pursed my lips to hold back a scream and I heard a soothing voice near my ear and something cold grasp my slippery hand.

"I'm so very sorry my dear Esme," His voice was recognizable; soft, smooth, like an angel's, but this couldn't be Heaven. "I'm sorry, I'm truly a selfish creature I am."

His voice was full of agony and I couldn't help but feel for it. Why was he sad? Angels shouldn't cry, especially Carlisle...Carlisle. I had thought it involuntarily, without even second-guessing if it was he here besides me. It just came to mind; it was an automatic thought, connection. It was him. I knew it was. How much I wanted to ask him, but the pain was too overwhelming, overpowering. I could feel bones cracking back into place, but why? It didn't make sense. What was I suppose to do anymore? I clenched my teeth as the tears continued to pour—red-hot tears that never ceased. Tears of all the frustration, pain, and sorrow I felt. Tears I had for ten years held in and finally broke out because of one indescribable moment where I knew Carlisle was here with me for the briefest of instants. Maybe if I could just open my eyes and see him one last time before I went onto the Heaven or Hell or wherever God had intended for me, then I could die peacefully. But I couldn't open them, the pain was too acute, too overpowering and I couldn't bring myself to force them open.

"She's thinking about you," An unfamiliar voice said softly. "She thinks she's dying slowly and knows your here with her. She wants to see your face one last time before she enters her final death." He mumbled. How'd he know what I was thinking? What was going on? Who was he? What was this?

"No," Carlisle breathed. "I wanted her to not dwell on me anymore, to not wait for me. I told I could never come back to her. Why?" He clenched my hand tighter.

My angel continued to murmur words of sorrow and concern in my ear. I could feel his lips near my ear ever soothingly and it seemed to make the pain more bearable, less acute. I wanted to ask him to keep talking, but I couldn't manage the words. I didn't need to anyways; he kept murmuring into my ear similar words that I knew were from deep inside his heart, which I knew he meant. Cause even in the darkest moment of my life, an angel...my angel, was with me, never leaving me through the whole time.

"Oh Esme, if I could take the pain away I could...I could," I could hear the sob in his voice, even though it was calm. "I'm so very sorry. I am a selfish, hopeless creature, selfish...cruel…"

No! I wanted to say, but couldn't. There was a burning intensity in my vessels now that seemed to harden them. You could never be any of those things, I thought. Never. You are my angel and I will never stop loving you. You are too good and I am so undeserving. I let out the ear-splitting scream now. I couldn't hold it in much longer and it seemed to lessen the pain, even the tiniest bit, though not as much as Carlisle's voice did.

My thoughts quickly went back to all the moments with Charles. How he had hurt me. How I deserved it. The pain seemed to remind me of him and my mind flashed to him either making love to me, rape I thought it; a terrible event, so horrible that I quickly washed it from my mind as soon as I thought it.

_"Esme!" He had screamed at the top of his lungs._

_"Yes Charles," I replied meekly._

_"You little slut! You burned my dinner!" He bellowed and came towards me, his fist hurling to my jaw._

_"Oh!" I stumbled back, but he caught me and his worst side took hold of him. He began kissing me, vigorously, roughly. He pulled me to him, his hands clenching my hips and tearing at my dress._

_"Now, I will get something good in return!" He growled maliciously and dragged my up the stairs to our room, throwing me upon the bed._

_"I want this to be slow and nice," He smiled with malice and began unbuttoning my dress. I cried in hopelessness. There was nothing I could do. No one could help. I was worthless. I knew it._

_He continued kissing me down the front, his hands sliding seductively all over my shivering body. I didn't want this, but did I have a choice? No. Never had and never would._

My thoughts came back to the present this time as I heard Edward mumble, "This is mental torture."

"What's she thinking, Edward?" Carlisle asked. So that was his name, Edward. Strong, handsome name.

Edward didn't answer right away.

"Edward?" Carlisle's voice was panicked.

"She was thinking about you again. She doesn't want you to feel sorry for what you've done--even though she doesn't know it yet," There seemed to be a hint of anger in his sweet voice as he mentioned the last statement. "But her now her thoughts are with someone name Charles, her husband I assume. He…...it's not my past to tell," Edward struggled. "Maybe she thought death was her only escape." Edward spoke slowly and seriously.

He seemed farther away now and I yearned to hear him or Carlisle speak again, but I felt myself drifting further and further into--not unconsciousness--but something other than that. Something where I wasn't able to focus, I was too worn out, I wasn't really sure. I wasn't sure of anything at the moment. Everything was a mix now; a blur, and I seemed to be stuck deep within it.

I don't know how much longer till the pain eased up and seemed to exit my body. It was like a huge bolder had been lifted my chest allowing me to breathe for a moment or two.

"The pain has stopped now, Carlisle," Edward's voice spoke up again. "She has no thoughts at the moment, but I have a feeling that soon enough they will be about you."

"Oh Esme." I could feel Carlisle touch his forehead to mine as he held my face in between this iron grasp. "Please do not think of me so wonderfully. The cruel, unfeeling creature that I am."

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**Thoughts? Did you guys like it? Was it okay? I sure hope so =) Sometimes it helps me to really get the mood of this story..this chapter in particular...when I'm in a quiet area and the lighting is dim. haha. **

**R&R =)**

**Oh and also I have quite a few ideas for what kind of events I will be having in the many chapters to come, but any suggestions that you may have would be awesome =)**

**Toodles.**


	14. Sneak Preview

**I'm sorry that you all think that this is the real chapter, but no, it is not. But it's a sneak peek into one of the next chapters coming along. Please know that this takes place after Esme is transformed. And also please take note that I am trying to get these chapters up as soon as I can. I know it doesn't seem soon enough, but I do try my very hardest. I would rather spend all of my time writing this story for you, but unfortuantely school is demanding--especially as a Senior at a college prep school. Thanks for all of your support. =)**

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_Carlisle's POV_

She had grown up beautifully. Granted her transformation had altered her appearance quite dramatically. But nevertheless, she had grown up. A young woman now. A young woman of six and twenty.

Shy. I pondered. "But she had always been shy, Carlisle. My God man! Are you still in love with her?" I spoke aloud. I placed my pen in the nook of my ear and stood up abruptly and began to pace around the room. Thinking. Thinking. Thinking.

Yes, I had saved her. But I saved Edward too. I ran my hands through my hair in exasperation. I _had_ loved her.

_You do not love her now. You have both grown apart. And those thoughts...those thoughts that Edward heard were not rational. She cannot love you for you broke her heart. _I broke her heart,I contemplated_. _

_"_My God! I broke her heart because I did love her," I whispered in amazement. Therefore she cannot love me now. There is no possible way. She married. That's sheer proof that she stopped loving me.

I sat down in my chair. My God, Cullen, what have you gotten yourself into?


	15. Chapter 13: Awakening

**Hi Everyone. So here is another update. The next chapter should be up a lot sooner because I already have most it written =) Again, thanks for all of your patience and reviews. It's so amazing!!!**

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**~Part Two~**

**Chapter Thirteen: Awakening**

_Esme's POV_

I sat up slowly, taking in my surroundings.

There was light coming in from the windows.

Drape-less. Bare. The wall color was caked with a peachy tone. There were no pictures on the walls.

"Where am I?"

"You're in our home."

I jumped at the voice.

"Esme, Esme it's okay," Edward held his palms perpendicular to the floor. "Carlisle." He called.

I hadn't even noticed that I had cornered myself to the wall and covered my face until I felt the courage to look up.

"Esme, it's me Carlisle. We won't hurt you, I promise. Please don't be afraid."

But I was...and wasn't. It's hard to describe. The feeling that you get when you love another, but aren't sure if you could really trust them. But the want is so strong that you trick yourself into trusting them and then you're betrayed. Carlisle would never do that though. I was stuck. I felt like Hamlet--I thought too much. Knowledge can lead to contemplation and too much contemplation can lead to madness.

"Hamlet is a very complex individual," Edward commented with a chuckle. "But you are far from his state of mind let me assure you."

I gasped. I must get use to a mind reader and filter my thoughts cautiously.

Carlisle lent me his hand and I stood up with ease.

He hadn't aged one day.

I didn't die.

"You're right, miss, you didn't." Edward nodded.

"What?" I looked at him questionably. This is not what I wanted. I wanted death. I wanted my Nathanial back. What had happened? This was not what I wanted. Of course I wanted Carlisle, but I knew he had forgotten about me over the decade and could not possibly love me anymore.

"Esme, you're a--" But I didn't let him finish.

I darted out of the room, faster than I ever had before. I didn't want this--life. I wanted Carlisle of course, but I could never be that selfish. I didn't deserve him anyway. I didn't deserve to live. I could hear Carlisle's voice in the distance as he called after me. He sounded panicked. My angel panicked? Please don't be. I thought. Please stay away. I don't deserve you.

I ran through the woods, ignoring the burning sensation in my throat. What was that anyway? I felt a need to kill, but why? I couldn't do that. I would not be a murderer. I neglected the craving that I couldn't understand and raced out further into the woods and back to the cliff. There I would inflict upon myself the punishment I deserved.

I stood at the edge of the cliff, hesitating before throwing myself over. I didn't know what to do anymore. Nothing made sense. Seeing Carlisle again? Why? Was it a punishment for me? Was it torture? I had yearned to see his face again and so I had, but it didn't put my mind at rest and I wanted to see more of him, but I knew that if I did it would just bring more pain to me. I had not died for some unearthly reason, but this time I knew I had to. I just did.

_He looked hurt. "I'm sorry." That was not the response I had imagined him to have. He still kept his hands on me, but I had a feeling it was only to support me.  
"Why?"  
"Because this is immoral of me. I can't…I can't offer you a life with me, Esme." He paused as he struggled for words. "I want to, oh so badly. I love you and I'd be honored to spend the rest of my life with you, but…there is something unworldly that you cannot know about and…" His voice rose into an irritated tone; one I had never heard from him before. "It prevents us from being together." He finished heartbroken._

I remember the night he told me that. I convinced myself also that I could go on living without him, but losing him on top of all other terrible events that had occurred since then, I found that I couldn't do it anymore.

"Esme!" I heard his voice call near behind me. "Don't! It won't work." I craned my head to look at him. The wind was blowing fiercely in my hair and through my ragged clothes. My face was very dirty and grimy and I probably looked a sight.

"No! Don't come any closer. I'll take the step," I warned him. Why did my voice sound so beautiful, like church bells, like Carlisle's. He reached his hand out to me.

"Don't, please Esme don't. It won't work, you won't die," He pleaded calmly with me. "Don't try. I can't...won't bear to see it again." His face was twisted and contorted in worry, but was still beautiful. The burning sensation was still stuck in my throat and I fought the unimaginable craving to kill something. Kill something? Why? I was not a killer.

"Of course I will! Please leave me alone. That's what you wanted right? To leave you alone? So that we could never see each other again?" I asked as the boy named Edward came out of the woods. He was a handsome, young boy. Probably about seventeen or eighteen. He had bronze-colored hair and deep golden eyes--like Carlisle's.

"I don't want to hurt anymore," I tried to cry but the tears wouldn't come. What was wrong with me?

"Esme, I won't have you hurt anymore. I promise you that, please. Falling won't solve anything, it won't _do_ anything. Please take my hand," He pleaded so smoothly that I almost at that instant considered it.

"No," I told him stubbornly my beautiful voice shaking, "Taking your hand will just cause you more pain, another burden. I've always been a burden to my parents, to everyone. I-I-I won't be one to you," I didn't mention Charles, but I thought him and Edward gasped. "I have nothing," I cried out somehow calmly.

"Esme," Carlisle's face softened, "You have me."

No. I couldn't be hearing this. He sounded like he still loved me, but it was probably more of a doctor thing. He just wanted to save someone. I was too undeserving for someone like Carlisle to love me, for anyone to love me. Charles had told me that every night.

I slowly turned my body away from the cliff and grasped onto his hand. He had said that I wouldn't die, but I still felt scared, nervous, I loved him; I needed his support. He pulled me to him, wrapping his arm around my waist. It was just to comfort me and calm me down, I convinced myself. It would never be a sign of love and never could be.

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**Awww poor Esme. Such a broken soul, but don't worry! Carlisle will slowly piece it together. It's not the destination that's important, rather the journey it takes to get there =)**

**R&R =)**


	16. Chapter 14: Connection

**A couple different point of views in this chapter. All the same I hope you like it.**

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**~Part Two~**

**Chapter Fourteen: Connection**

_Fourteen days later_

_Carlisle's POV_

She had grown up beautifully. Granted her transformation had altered her appearance quite dramatically. But nevertheless, she had grown up. A young woman now. A young woman of six and twenty.

Shy. I pondered. "But she had always been shy, Carlisle. My God man! Are you still in love with her?" I spoke aloud. I placed my pen in the nook of my ear and stood up abruptly. I paced around the room. Thinking. Thinking. Thinking.

Yes, I had saved her. But I saved Edward too. I ran my hands through my hair in exasperation. I _had_ loved her.

_You do not love her now. You have both grown apart. And those thoughts...those thoughts that Edward heard were not rational. She cannot love you for you broke her heart. _I broke her heart,I contemplated_. _

_"_My God! I broke her heart because I love her," I whispered in amazement. Therefore she cannot love me now. There is no possible way. She married. That's sheer proof that she stopped loving me. But she did feel dreadfully uncomfortable with Mr. Evenson at the party. Forget the party, that was long ago. She has surely forgotten about it now. She was hurt and vulnerable; that is the only explanation for way that she behaved. She needed someone to comfort her and I was the one that was there.

I sat down in my chair. My God, Cullen, what have you gotten yourself into?

My thoughts were disrupted by a knock at my office door.

"Yes. Come in?" I answered, praying that it was only Edward.

It wasn't.

_No POV_

The door opened carefully and closed silently behind her. She was wearing something different than before she left for hunting with Edward. One of Carlisle's shirts was draped over her thin body and his black belt was secured around her petite waist that defined her shape.

She noticed that he was looking at her outfit. He quickly averted his eyes noticing her discomfort.

"Dr. Cullen, I was going to ask beforehand if I could wear your clothes temporarily, but Edward just kind of handed them to me," Esme explained sheepishly. "I can find something else, if you like?"

Carlisle seemed to be staring into space.

"I'm sorry," She noted quietly. "I'll find something else."

"No, no," Carlisle stood up. "I'm sorry, I was just lost in my thoughts for a moment there. I don't mind at all if you wear my clothes. I'll be sure to get you some things very soon." He smiled.

Silence.

"Here, here," Carlisle pulled up a chair to his desk. " Sit here."

"Thank you." She sat down, her eyes avoiding his completely.

Silence again.

"Would you like to tell me something?" Carlisle asked unaware of how to start a conversation with the woman he loved. How ironic.

"Oh, yes." She seemed focused now. "I came to tell you that I have an answer to your question earlier about if I was going to stay or not."

He nodded.

"If it's all right, I was hoping to stay on a little longer," She paused, trying to form her next words. "Until I am capable of taking care of myself." She added.

Carlisle felt joy.

"If that's all right, Dr. Cullen? I won't be any trouble, I promise," Her sweet voice assured.

Carlisle wanted to jump to his feet and kiss her. He was so elated that she decided to stay, even if it was for a short while. But he kept his legendary calm.

"Well I am a very pleased to hear that, Esme," Carlisle smiled. "And I know you won't be any trouble. You couldn't even if you tried."

She smiled.

"Thank you, Dr. Cullen."

"Please, as long as you're living here with Edward and I call me Carlisle," He encouraged. "You did so when you were sixteen anyway."

A smile lit her face again. She was glowing.

"Of course, Carlisle," She accentuated kindly.

He nodded. "Good."

She looked as though she wanted to say something but instead headed for the door.

"Carlisle?" She paused.

Carlisle set his paperwork down. "Yes?"

"I was...well...I was wondering if you could tell me more about your past, vampires, anything really?"

He smiled. He was glad she asked. Edward never quite cared to know. He spent the majority of his time either being angry with Carlisle or up in his room alone.

"Why yes I would be honored." Carlisle's foot caught on the chair or the desk and he would have tripped if not for his quick reflexes. Carlisle would have blushed with embarrassment, but he doubted that she noticed it.

_Come on Cullen. You're fine._ He placed a hand on the small of Esme's back as he guided her to the first painting in his office. She flinched slightly; he quickly dropped his hand and swallowed.

"This painting is one of my father and I in the mid sixteen fifties." He pointed to an intricate drawing of his father and him with his father's hand on his shoulder. A stern expression was present on both of their faces, but Carlisle's had a certain smile to it.

_**Flashback**_

_"Carlisle, son, let us finish our picture," My father informed in his thick British accent._

_I stood in front of him._

_"No, no," the painter reprimanded lightly, "over here, off to side." He moved me to the side of my father._

_"Good, good," The painted praised. "Now hold still. No smiling." He added as a smile began to light my face._

_A hour passed._

_"All right, son, let us take a break and pray," My father told me. "Remember confession; ask for forgiveness for your sins." He said and thrust a Bible into my arms._

**_Present_**

"You're smiling a little," Esme observed.

"Yes, I do that," He replied with a smile.

"No, I meant in the painting," She pointed with her finger. "You're father is wearing a stern expression, as are you, but yet there is a hint of a smile in your face."

"You have an eye for detail."

She just smiled.

"What about the next one?"

Volturi. And he began to tell her of that dark tale.

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**This chapter was more a filler because it is important, I think, to Carlisle's development as a character and a look into his mind. You'll notice that Carlisle is just as nervous as Esme, especially in the beginning. Flashbacks of Carlisle's life will come up again although I'm not sure how frequently. I think those are important because, as I said before, they really show you Carlisle's growth and how he can connect with Esme on another level--a level that she never thought possible: their childhood.**

**One more little note. I just would like to say that I thought it was cute when Carlisle became all nervous. It's not everyday that you see the confident and incredibly handsome Dr. Cullen trip over a chair ;)**

**R&R =)**


	17. Chapter 15: The Complexities of Hamlet

**A/N: I do apologize if you readers find this chapter written in an annoying way. I bounced around a lot and there were many flashbacks. It might be confusing and I apologize. Please PM me if you don't understand anything. I just really wanted to get this chapter up tonight before the new semester started and while I still had time so it might seem a little rushed. Just try to enjoy it for what it is. Just for future reference: I do like flashbacks as they add more depth to the character(s), but there will not be as many in this chapter in further chapters. Thanks for reading this ridiculously long note :)**

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**~Part Two~**

**Chapter Fifteen: The Complexities of Hamlet**

_December 1921_

_Esme's POV_

"Mr. Knightly always did have a way with words," I noted out as I read from Jane Austen's Emma. " 'But she is poor!' Knightly says. 'Even more so then when she was born. And should she live to be an old lady she will sink further still. Her situation being in everyway below you should secure your compassion.' Wonderful words, yes?" I looked up from my book to see Edward browsing through the Shakespearean section of their library.

"Yes indeed," Edward agreed. "He speaks with confidence and in such a way that she knows he is disappointed in her."

I nod my head.

"But," He added. "Hamlet has a way of speaking that leaves you with a multitude of theories roaming about your mind. He's much more convincing because he uses emotion."

I shook my head.

"I disagree. Mr. Knightly speaks with emotion and in a way that gets his point across in a manner that makes you admire him and helps you to understand. He's not pitied like Hamlet, but honored. Hamlet--." I began to support my point further, but paused.

Carlisle was home from work.

I quickly smoothened my dress with my hands and fiddled with my hair.

"Esme, it's only--."

'Shh,' I interrupted in my mind. 'I must look my best.'

Edward chuckled. "Love. I don't like it." He mused. "It causes too much unneeded worry and anxiety. We're better off without it."

I scoffed. "That's a very Hamlet way of looking at things, Edward," I replied cleverly.

"He is my favorite Shakespearean character."

"He's definitely a complex character," A familiar voice agreed.

I was surprised. He came in so fast and quietly.

'I must get use to this.'

Carlisle sighed and set down his bag.

"How is everyone this evening?" He asked with a smile.

I smiled back. "Wonderful." 'Even more so now that you are here' I added in my thoughts.

Edward hid a chuckle.

Carlisle gave him a curious look.

"Nothing," Edward replied.

Awkward silence.

"Well, I think I will go and finish my homework."

"Yes, Edward. We can't have you falling behind," I marked with a hint of sarcasm.

Carlisle suppressed a smile.

"I believe that statement was a very Mr. Knightly way of saying things," Edward retorted cleverly.

I smiled and Edward continued up the stairs.

"Excuse me." Carlisle nodded and left the room as quietly as he had entered.

"Wait!" My voice came out softer than I had intended.

"Yes?"

Those eyes. Those unfathomable eyes. They are such a distraction!

I tried to muster an excuse to be with him.

"I am thirsty," I lied. "Will you take me?"

He smiled. "Of course."

~*~

The run into the woods was quiet and a routine. I attacked the first animal I saw and felt guilty when I realized after that I had not shared with Carlisle.

"We don't share, Esme," Edward announced his arrival with a response to my thoughts. "We're instinctively very selfish animals," He gracefully walked over to Carlisle and I.

Carlisle attempted to hide his smile.

"Despite our instincts, I won't be selfish, Edward," I told him and Carlisle calmly.

Carlisle chuckled lightly.

"Shall we continue," He offered.

We hunted in silence for another hour or two and decided that we had been well fed. As we walked home, I realized that despite all that had been explained to me previously about being a vampire, Carlisle had never told me what the reason was for changing me.

"Why?"

Carlisle stopped in his tracks.

"Why did you change me?" I asked softly, but deep down I was somewhat angry. I had wanted to die, to be with my Nathanial and knowing that there was no possible way that Carlisle could still love me—my life was hopeless.

Carlisle looked at me for the briefest of seconds and then at Edward who nodded. Carlisle took off instantly—a mere figure disappearing into the darkness like a bolt of lightening.

"He'll be back," Edward answered my thoughts.

"Do you always have to do that?" I asked in a frustrated tone.

"I know when someone loves another person. I don't have to read their mind to figure that out, especially yours. You humans think you're so hidden, so secretive, but your just really easy to read."

"Well, I'm not human anymore. And please don't say anything to Carlisle, about my feelings that is," I begged turning back to face him.

"Of course," Edward vowed. I nodded in thanks.

I looked up at Edward in gratitude. He was a wonderful boy.

**_Flashback_**

"So...are you thirsty?" Edward asked, breaking the brief, but awkward silence.

"Is that what that burning in the back of my throat is?" I asked putting my hand to my throat.

"Yes and you need to feed," Edward held out his arm to me. "Come on, let's eat."

"I don't want to kill anything," I stepped away from him and folded my arms in protest.

"Esme, I'm not going to force you, but you'll have to some time. Either way the craving will be too much and you'll have to feed eventually." Edward stepped towards me with a warm smile. "Come on."

"Oh all right, but after this I'm done," I told him stubbornly, taking his arm. He didn't say anything.

Hunting wasn't as bad as I thought. By the time I had finished I had killed a herd of deer and two grizzlies. I returned to Edward with blood streaked down my shirt. He tried to conceal his laughter, but couldn't help it.

"What?" I asked annoyed and embarrassed.

"Nothing, you just remind me of me when Carlisle first took me hunting."

Carlisle. Where was he? Oh how much I wanted to see him. How much--. I stopped my thoughts, remembering that Edward could hear them again.

"He's praying...thinking. He needs time to think," Edward answered. I didn't scold him this time.

"Oh." Was my brief reply. "He prays? After what's been done to him? What he's become?"

"Yes, he still has his faith. Don't you?" Edward eyes questioned me.

"I don't know anymore. I haven't had many happy moments in my life. It's been full of disaster," I looked away from him, embarrassed.

"What's been your happiest moment in your life?" He asked.

"Secret," I smiled, remembering not to think it.

"What is it, really? I won't tell," Edward promised.

"It's too embarrassing." I started walking away.

"_Does that hurt?" He asked, it sounded like more of a concern than a doctor just asking a medical question._

"_Not too bad," I lied._

"_You're a brave girl, many people wouldn't have been able to take the pain," Carlisle said smoothly. His voice was one of the most sweetest sounds I've ever heard—as smooth as silk. He felt the torn bone once more. I tried not to show the pain on my face, but I failed in that._

"_Thank you so much, Carlisle. This is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me." I said truthfully._

"_Well I certainly hope not," He chuckled, but it faded as he looked up at my expression. "You mean….no one has ever gotten you a present before?" His voice sounded slightly bewildered for a moment as he realized the truth._

_I shook my head. "Not from their heart, not how you did." I don't think he knew how to respond to that or how much it meant to me that he did this for me, so he just said, "Well now, I'm even happier that I did give you a present 'cause you deserve it immensely and I know one day someone will see the wonderful qualities in you that I do everyday." He spoke so sincerely that I was breathless as he flashed me a hesitant, but lovely smile. He flicked off the lamp beside me and turned off the larger light hanging above me. "Goodnight, Esme." Then he closed the door quietly behind him._

Damn my thoughts! I had just flashed back to pieces of my happiest moments in my life--ones with Carlisle. They still remained vivid in my head, like they had just happened yesterday.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of," Edward stood a few feet in front of me. "Those are wonderful memories."

"Yes, but they as best be forgotten," I replied bluntly.

"Why?" Edward tilted his head to the side. How adorable.

"Because that's what he wanted," I looked down at the ground. "For me to forget him."

"Ah," Edward observed confidently. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Some who think they are absolutely sure turn out to be absolutely wrong," He said quietly.

"Well I'm not. Please Edward, please just let's go back now," I wanted the conversation to end.

"Yes of course." He held out his arm for me and I took it.

Walking at human speed through the forest I began asking Edward questions about his life. He was a fascinating boy and he was proud to have Carlisle for a second father, but I knew that something was missing, something wanting…

**_Present_**

"How old are you?" I asked randomly as I came out of my thoughts.

Edward did not seem to acknowledge them and answered my question.

"17."

"Ah. A young man then. Where were you born?"

"Chicago in 1901. Carlisle changed me as you have probably already guessed."

"Why did he change you?" I finally managed to build up the nerves to ask. Maybe it was too personal of a question.

"For the same reasons he changed you with a slight difference. I understand why now," He didn't seem annoyed.

"Why'd he change me?" The question came out so fast I didn't have time to consider if it was an appropriate one or not.

"You'd have to ask him that. I don't know Carlisle's mind as well as everyone else's."

"Why is that?" I asked curiously.

"Because Carlisle is very brilliant, compassionate, a wonderful father. He's smart at not thinking things he doesn't want me to know except for the last month, he hasn't been too focused on blocking his thoughts," Edward led us into a clearing and I could see their large Victorian house in the distance.

"Carlisle's back now," Edward led me to the front door.

"He is?"

"You can go see him," Edward held the door open for me.

"I don't wish to disturb him," My voice was shaky.

"You won't."

I stood at the edge of the stairs, wondering if I should go up or not.

"He'll be in his study, last door on the right, if you would like to talk to him. I'll be out hunting for a while longer," Edward informed me.

"All right."

I turned to go up the stairs and slipped on a step. It didn't hurt, but I still felt embarrassed.

**_Flashback_**

"_Esme!" Charles's voice rang in my ear. "Why didn't you answer me?" He grasped my arm pushed me upon the floor._

"_I'm sorry, Charles, I was taking a bath and I had to dry off," I whimpered an apology, grasping the towel around me tighter. He hadn't given me a chance to get dressed._

"_Oh really were you?" He snickered. "That's good cause I had some plans with you tonight anyways." He smiled maliciously. He forced his lips upon mine and shoved his tongue in my mouth._

"_Charles please," I begged. "Not now."_

"_Shut-up Ezy!" He bellowed. "I've had a tiring day. You are my reward and I will get what I want!" _

_I began whimpering._

"_Shut-up Esme!" He grabbed me by the wrist to pull me up and then he shoved me down the stairs._

**_Present_**

I was sobbing tearless sobs as I came back to the present. What pain Charles had caused me. How much I believed his words when he screamed them at me, day after day. I picked myself up from the stairs and quieted my sobbing so that Carlisle wouldn't hear.

"Esme?" Carlisle was at the top of stairs looking down on me worriedly.

"Oh. Hello Carlisle. I was just coming to see you," I tried to smile and sound light-hearted.

"Are you all right?" He seemed to ignore what I had just said.

"Yes, I'm fine why wouldn't I be?" I lied. I was thankful he couldn't read my mind like Edward could.

"I thought I heard someone fall," Carlisle face was confused and unimaginably beautiful.

"Oh no." I laughed. "You must be hearing things for I am quite well." I lied again.

He didn't believe me. I could tell, but he didn't press the matter further.

"Would you come to my study, please. I would like to talk to you about some things," He asked politely.

"Ah yes and I you," I replied. He probably realized that he didn't want me anymore.

I walked up the rest of the stairs with Carlisle to the end of the hall, last door on right. Carlisle held open the door for me.

"Ladies first," He said sweetly and I walked into his place of unending beauty.

* * *

**If you've read this then you've gotten through this chapter. lol.**

**R&R: Good or Bad...**


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